


In love we name us

by TururaJ



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Foul Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Minor Character Death, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 21:00:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10907370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TururaJ/pseuds/TururaJ
Summary: “Kaizuka, Troyard won’t suffer. I’ll approve the usage of the special medicaments. He’ll simply fall asleep and won’t ever wake up.” Hakkinen stops near Inaho; his voice is much more controlled and quiet now and has the undertone of a father trying to coo a stubborn child. It is obvious he hopefully waits for Inaho’s agreement.“I can’t condone this,” Inaho answers instead.





	1. Chapter 1

Troyard’s fingers are thin. When he moves the chess piece his hand trembles, just a bit. Inaho thinks the weakness is unavoidable: living in a small and restricted area can’t be good for anyone - neither physically nor psychologically. The prison is dark, cold and silent with only two guards stationed at the entrance, a warden who loves to seclude himself in his office, and a couple of other staff hired to look after Troyard’s needs.

Inaho remembers there were way more people at the beginning. But as the sea calms down after a storm, the higher ups’ uneasiness ran its course. Troyard never cared to cause unnecessary problems, neither does he now. Seven years after the end of the war the prison becomes almost an empty place, devoid of life.

No one visits Troyard here. Only Inaho comes from time to time to play chess if he is not saddled with work. Sometimes Troyard accepts the match and sometimes his eyes prefer to stay glued to a random spot on the grey floor. If so, Inaho spends the appointed hour staring at the pale face and tousled blonde hair. Troyard’s hair is long now but it doesn’t look good on him. Inaho notices some strands are already gray.

Troyard sits back on his chair and breathes out with force. It sounds like a wheeze. Obviously, his health will become an issue quite soon.

Inaho is not sure he can do anything to help. He doesn’t have the time and the energy, and Asseylum doesn’t care, especially now that she is pregnant and finally happy in her marriage. ‘I trust you to decide his fate, Inaho-san. I’m moving forward, away from the past’, she had told him two years ago when they met each other during the diplomatic meeting. Inaho still reflects back to that day as the day his last ounces of affection for her were burnt to ashes.

Troyard reaches with his bony hand to brush the hair obscuring his face away. Inaho slowly moves his chess piece and looks at the board more closely. He is not losing, far from it, but he finds his usual strategy somehow lacking. Winning or losing, he aims for neither. He is just filling in the time, thinking nothing, feeling nothing. Like a mere shadow of the past. A ghost that had wandered into the dying place of another ghost.

Inaho carefully observes his own hand and finally sees it. His fingers are thin too.

***

Inaho wants to sleep. He enters his apartment after completing a long and demanding mission, and suddenly his phone goes off. Admiral Hakkinen wishes to see him fast. Inaho ignores the headache and calls a taxi. He can’t drive right now; the dizziness is almost sickening.

It is four hours into the night when Inaho sinks into an armchair and accepts the papers Hakkinen pushes to him over the table. The sleepiness is gone in an instant. The letters blur into the outrageous example of coldness and inhumanity.

“Yesterday it was decided that spending money further over maintaining the facility is not efficient,” Hakkinen explains while Inaho tries to take the information in.

“Why wasn’t I notified about the meeting? Did you approve this?” Inaho is so angry he forgets his place.

“It doesn’t matter, _lieutenant_ Kaizuka, who came up with the idea of _ceasing to waste money on a criminal._ ” Hakkinen’s voice is firm, and Inaho takes a calming breath. “We’ve already contacted the Empress and she left the final decision with _me._ ”

“But two years ago the Empress…”

“I do not care what was two years ago!” Hakkinen snaps and abruptly rises from his cozy armchair. He makes several steps, clearly to calm down. Then he takes off his half frame glasses and cleans the lenses, all the way muttering: “I swear, youngsters these days…”

Inaho tries to be patient. It is hard to think with the headache, but slowly he comes to the realization that if Hakkinen really wanted to carry out the plan without informing him he could easily do it while Inaho was away on a mission. Inaho lowers his gaze and reads the final lines once more.

_‘…Due to the aforementioned reasons, I hereby order:_  
_\- to cease all the funding allocated to maintaining the facility;_  
_\- to transfer the facility staff to the appropriate departments;_  
_\- to put to death Slaine Saazbaum Troyard on the morning of September, 1.’_

“Kaizuka, Troyard won’t suffer. I’ll approve the usage of the special medicaments. He’ll simply fall asleep and won’t ever wake up.” Hakkinen stops near Inaho; his voice is much more controlled and quiet now and has the undertone of a father trying to coo a stubborn child. It is obvious he hopefully waits for Inaho’s agreement.

“I can’t condone this,” Inaho answers instead.

Hakkinen stays silent for a long time looking him in the eye. His stare is hard, heavy and feels oppressive. The pounding in Inaho’s head bounces rhythmically along with his pulse, but he doesn’t look away.

“Let me be honest with you, Kaizuka.” Suddenly Hakkinen sounds tired. “I respect you. As the person who did much to help end the war and as the UFE colleague whose excellent performance will soon become a legend despite your juvenile age, you’re irreplaceable. I have great hopes for your future. Your sister has great hopes for your future. The whole world looks upon you as a person to guide them. Now, out of my pure respect to you… let’s say I can organize an alternative to Troyard’s execution that requires fulfilling certain conditions. Do you really understand what will happen?”

Yuki’s mention comes as unexpected and unpleasant surprise. Inaho knows that if there is something Hakkinen can try to manipulate him with it’s his and Yuki’s blood connection. Inaho brings his palm to his forehead and rubs the skin there in an attempt to chase away the pain.

“I can arrange a hideaway house for you and Troyard. You will be forced to live with him on a daily basis and become his one and only supervisor. However such a role will demand your presence at the house which means you will be reduced to a lower rank and become a nothing. A nothing, Kaizuka. A mere office rat loaded with so much paperwork it’ll make you sick. Your payment will be low, enough only so the two of you won’t starve to death. You won’t have any future in the UFE and at the same time you’ll have no right to leave the UFE. You will be forbidden to have any personal life since you’ll be guarding the dangerous criminal. Aside from the visits of your sister, who’ll have to receive an official approval each time she desires to see you, you will get no guests, Kaizuka. Forget about having a wife, kids or even seeing your friends. Do you really want this?”

Inaho understands what Hakkinen is saying. The conditions are strict but justified. It is almost like signing a free-will life sentence, a life sentence with Slaine Troyard. Logically Inaho knows that Hakkinen is right. It is better to go with the flow. The Empress doesn’t care. Troyard will finally find peace, and Inaho can spend his free time with Yuki instead of visiting the deserted prison and playing chess with a partner who doesn’t want to play.

“Troyard’s life is not worth it, Kaizuka. He has no life. I’m sure at this point of time he also doesn’t wish to continue the empty existence he was subjected to. Don’t bury yourself.” Hakkinen is almost pleading now. His hand reaches for Inaho’s shoulder and squeezes it. Hard.

Inaho thinks of Yuki and wants to agree. Denying yourself a future is unwise. Yuki will be devastated, and his friends will never accept his disappearance. Inko will probably cry, and Inaho fought hard for his sister and friends to never be sad again. He wants to agree but hears himself saying: “I have killed enough.”

Inaho looks at his hand and thinks of Troyard’s thin fingers, of his hunched shoulders and lips always drawn into a tight line. Seven years after the end of the war he has yet to see Troyard’s smile.

“This is not war, Kaizuka. This is not even your decision. Just let it go, let it happen. There is nothing to blame yourself for. Free, both yourself and Troyard.” Hakkinen goes back to his armchair and clasps his hands. His eyes roam aimlessly the plastered ceiling. He is apparently giving Inaho time to think about the final choice.

Inaho takes his time remembering all his visits to Troyard and trying to find a solid reason for involving himself with the man. He finds none. Troyard is nothing but a chess partner, a relic of the passed war, a predictably failed ‘save-him-from-the-chains-of-misery.’ 

Inaho is a logical person, yet it seems like when it comes to Slaine Troyard the logic leaves him. He reaches a conclusion he can’t subject Troyard to the execution. Just like when they were falling to Earth and he moved Sleipnir’s hand to hold onto Tharsis. Somehow, and Inaho doesn’t understand it, letting go of Troyard feels like letting go of himself.

“I have killed enough,” he repeats. “And the war is over. For these very reasons I cannot stand aside and consent to the execution.”

“So be it.” Hakkinen is not angry but he looks away as if Inaho immediately becomes a waste of space. “You’ll be informed about the details later.”

Inaho leaves the cabinet and staggers amidst the dark and empty hallway. The pain in his head is unbearable. He needs his meds.

The sun is up and Inaho is already home when his phone goes off again. This time it’s Yuki. Inaho ignores the call and falls face-down on the bed.

He just wants to sleep.

***

Troyard doesn’t ask him any questions. Inaho quietly enters his cell, crouches near the still figure sitting on the edge of the bunk bed and puts a tracking device on the thin wrist. It looks like a simple bracelet. Troyard obediently stands up when Inaho gestures to follow him.

They pass the narrow hall and stop near the sleepy warden. Inaho signs the papers sealing his fate. Troyard stays disinterested but turns to meet a soft breeze. The entrance door is slightly opened, and the early morning freshness invades the prison.

When they are finally outside Inaho expects Troyard to be enchanted by the nature: the trees surrounding the prison, the gulls flying high in the grey sky, the view of the sleeping sea. Troyard stumbles once, and gets inside Inaho’s car without any protest. He lowers his eyes and spends the long drive mostly looking at his hands.

Inaho stops the car several times to give a break to his eye. His head hurts a bit despite the medication. Yuki calls Inaho five times but Inaho doesn’t have the energy to talk with her. He turns the sound off. They have argued enough, and now there is no way back.

When the evening creeps closer Inaho remembers about food. He is glad they are passing the small beach town at the moment. Inaho stirs the car towards an inconspicuous café and leaves for several minutes. After he gets back he lowers the paper bag onto Troyard’s lap.

The setting sun paints the car red. While Inaho drinks water from the bottle he observes how Troyard’s thin fingers carefully unwrap the large sandwich inside. The piece of green salad falls onto Troyard’s knee. This is the first time today Troyard directly looks at Inaho.

“It’s too big,” he says. His voice sounds hoarse and just a bit perplexed.

“Leave some for the morning. Our destination is far yet.” Inaho closes his eye and takes one more pill.

They spend the night sleeping in the car. It is quiet. The stars are out. Inaho is very tired so he sleeps through the night without waking up. Troyard has numerous chances to take off the tracking device and run away. He doesn’t.

The second night upon the road Inaho wakes up to a loud scream. Getting out of the car Troyard nearly breaks the door. He falls on his knees amidst the soft grass and throws up all he managed to eat today. His thin body trembles so much Inaho makes an assumption Troyard had a nightmare.

Inaho takes some water from the backseat and searches for a towel. Troyard’s forehead almost touches the earth when Inaho kneels near him and helps to clean his mouth and chin with a wet towel. Troyard doesn’t stop shaking so Inaho gets off his uniform coat and covers Troyard’s shoulders with it. The summer is ending, and the nights are chilly. Inaho doesn’t mind the cold. He used to dislike it in the past, but nowadays he can’t remember the last time he felt truly warm.

They stay unmoving until Troyard gathers his strength to go back inside the car. He says nothing to Inaho, not even a ‘thank you’ for the coat, but Inaho is satisfied when Troyard hides his trembling hands under the blue fabric. It should do until they get to the house. Everything should already be in place there, including clothes. Inaho had been choosing all the necessary things - furniture, garments, household equipment - personally.

On the evening of the third day they finally reach their destination. The single-storey cottage is small. It has two bedrooms, a living room, a narrow kitchen and a tiny bathroom. The high brick fence surrounds the cottage but leaves just enough space for setting up a garden. The proximity of the hills covered by the forest safely hides the house from the prying eyes of the town nearby. Inaho will have to drive there several miles every day to do his work. He knows there is a low-profile UFE outpost stationed in the town and that the UFE officers are already expecting his arrival.

Troyard isn’t interested in the house. Inaho shows him to his bedroom and leaves the room when Troyard wordlessly lies down on the bed and turns his back to him. Inaho debates to take back his uniform coat, but it’s a bit cold inside the cottage, and Troyard is obviously not ready to discuss their future daily life. Inaho decides to let him sleep and proceeds to his own bedroom.

Behind the closed door he finds half of the furniture and equipment he requested for the house. Inaho has no energy left to deal with the mess. He falls on the couch in the living room and lets his exhausted mind escape into the whirl of strange dreams.

He dreams Troyard is screaming again. It takes him a minute to understand that this is no dream. By the time Inaho enters the bedroom Troyard is already awake. Thankfully he is not sick this time. Inaho stays in the doorway; Troyard’s outstretched hand indicates that he should not come closer like he did the last time.

“I’ll make you hot tea, come to the kitchen,” Inaho offers.

Troyard joins him in the kitchen only fifteen minutes later, his face indifferent, but body still shaking. Behind the large window the grey sunrise is coming alive. Inaho makes the promised tea and watches how Troyard’s fingers are desperately embracing the cup in search for warmth.

They sit in the kitchen for some time, yet even after Inaho deliberately pulls out the car keys from his pocket and heads for the exit Troyard doesn’t ask him any questions.

***

Inaho stares at the dishes. His head is pounding. It’s been three weeks since he began working, and he can already tell Hakkinen didn’t lie. The paperwork is not hard but the amount of it is stressful. His compromised vision doesn’t help. Inaho gets headaches often.

The new colleagues dislike him. They are envious of his fame, forbidden to ask him any questions, and his usual habit of keeping silent and forgoing some rules to raise the efficiency also puts him into negative light. Inaho expects the bullying behavior to start soon and his expectations are proved right when his pills disappear from his personal desk. Inaho simply gets the new batch from the apothecary. Even grownup people can be foolish but he is not going to wage war until they cross a more serious line.

Inaho gets only one free day a week. He spends it buying food and necessary items for the house; he still has some money saved on his card. The living room becomes filled with unopened bags and packages. Inaho has no will left to clean the mess. After shopping he falls asleep on the couch and doesn’t wake up until it’s time to go to work. Sometimes he notices Troyard visiting the bathroom or going to the kitchen to make himself tea or a sandwich. They do not talk.

They do not talk until Inaho is here, staring at the dishes and narrowing his eye from the pain, three weeks after they start living in the house. 

“Why are we here?” Troyard asks and Inaho has to let go of the tabletop he leans on to meet the sea blue eyes for the first time in three (or more, he doesn’t remember) weeks.

“It was decided you’ll be doing life sentence in this house. From now on I’m your sole caretaker and supervisor,” Inaho answers, starts water in the sink and rolls his shirt sleeves up.

“Why you? Don’t you have other, much more pleasant things to do with your life?” Troyard is not a fool but Inaho decides against telling him the full truth. It can cause a heavy discussion he isn’t feeling up to right now.

“Obviously, I have,” he states and falls silent thinking about Yuki. His sister vents and cries every time Inaho dares to accept the call. He knows the emotions will pass eventually, but looking at her pale face through the video connection pains him. Yuki promises to visit him as soon as she can but Inaho knows it won’t happen until the next spring. He had personally asked Hakkinen to postpone the official approval of her visit for six months at least. He still needs the time to set into his new life and to learn to deal with Troyard.

Troyard waits for more explanations but realizing they won’t come leaves the kitchen. Inaho tries to do the dishes that accumulated over the past week. He washes two plates, dries them and turns the water off as the dizziness attacks him full force. He stumbles into the living room, almost misses the couch and after lying down pulls the blanket over his shoulders. He is too exhausted; he’ll deal with the mess in the morning.

The alarm goes off as usual. Inaho feels a bit better after sleeping; and he still has time for a shower. He wanders into the kitchen to turn the kettle on but stops near the sink noticing that something is wrong. The sink is empty; the dry and clean dishes are arranged on the plate-rack. The only logical conclusion Inaho finds is that Troyard must have done the chore.

In the end Inaho has to choose between the tea and the shower because he stares at the dishes for far too long.

***

The new routine is established when the autumn ends. Inaho prepares food and does the chores four days out of seven in a week. Troyard does less and avoids cooking (he’s not really good with it) but while Inaho is at work he tries to make the house more habitable. Slowly he moves all the stored furniture away from Inaho’s bedroom and arranges it around the house. He also goes through the bags and packages Inaho stored in the living room.

Now Inaho has his own room to sleep in, so he vacates the couch and tunes on the TV set placed at the nearby table. The next day he comes from work late and finds Troyard asleep on the couch, the remote having fallen on the floor. The glow from the TV screen is lighting the pale and haggard face; the blonde hair are messily cut. Inaho covers Troyard with a blanket. The house has no heating, and the weather is getting colder day by day. It won’t be good if Troyard catches a cold.

Winter passes slowly. There is almost no snow, but the winds are harsh. Troyard finally starts wearing more clothes Inaho acquired for him back in autumn. Sometimes the two of them silently drink tea together in the kitchen. Inaho looks at how Troyard hides his hands under the pullover sleeves. He is still very thin despite Inaho’s attempts to cook healthy meals. Inaho thinks he isn’t getting better too.

Sometimes Inaho wakes up in the dead of the night hearing the frantic breathing or muffled screams. The nightmares seem to be a constant part of Troyard’s life. Inaho doesn’t see nightmares; instead of them he befriends sleeplessness and starts taking work papers home to make good use of the night time. His headaches are worsening as a result.

When the spring comes Inaho stops looking at himself in the mirror. His head feels like being filled with cotton; his ears are ringing; he almost crashes the car after dizziness hits him on the road. Troyard starts giving him strange glances, and once he even prevents Inaho from doing the dishes after dinner.

“I’ll do it today.”

Inaho doesn’t object. He is tired. He makes too much mistakes in his papers because all he can concentrate on is his aching head. His colleagues are getting more and more creative in the ways they try to complicate his life. Now Inaho does work he is not supposed to do. One evening he finds the front tires of his car deflated, and he has to walk home on his own after leaving the car in the auto repair shop.

In the beginning of May the heavy rains wrap the town and the close areas into a wet cocoon. Water is everywhere: it drowns the roads under the dirty streams, forces people to stay inside their houses and scares away the animals. When the downfall pauses Inaho searches for birds in the sky but finds only the dark grey clouds.

It is one of the rainy days. Inaho is at work and he can’t find his phone. He knows it was a bad decision to leave it on the desk while he visited the secretary’s office to copy the important documents. He spends half of the day searching for his phone but to no avail. In the end he finds it in a trash bin three days later when the cleaning worker comes to empty the bin. He checks the calls and messages, and his face goes deathly pale. Yuki is here.

Inaho stumbles away from the UFE station, forgets his umbrella and gets soaked in a second. The last message is one hour old. _‘Though you’re not answering the navigator says it’s your house, I’m going in. If you’re asleep get you sorry ass off the bed, Nao. We have lots to talk about’_ makes Inaho’s skin crawl. All Yuki knows about Inaho’s new life is that he supervises Slaine Troyard. She doesn’t know they live under the same roof and share the same food and sleep in the adjacent bedrooms. Inaho hoped to explain her before her visit. Now it’s too late. He also can’t predict how Troyard will react. If something happens to Yuki Inaho won’t be able to take it.

He gets out of the car and can already hear the loud screaming despite being outside. Inaho ignores the rain, runs up the steps and throws the door open. What he sees is not what he expects. Yuki is furious, and that Inaho can understand, but Troyard sitting like a broken doll near one of the walls and trying to hide the bruised and bloody lip seems very wrong. Yuki screams and paces in front of him while Troyard does nothing to protect himself. _‘Murderer’_ and _‘Son of a bitch’_ and _‘You’re just a trash’_ leave her lips with disgusting speed.

After visiting Troyard for seven years and living with him for half of a year Inaho knows Troyard is nothing like that. Bad people don’t see nightmares, bad people don’t try to muffle their tears while taking a shower, bad people don’t try to lessen their cohabitant’s chores to give them more time to sleep.

Inaho steps inside the living room and raises his voice. “ _Out!_ Get out to the kitchen and wait for me there.”

“Nao!” Yuki is startled and confused but Inaho doesn’t give her a chance to gather her thoughts.

“I said _out_ ,” he repeats, and Yuki does as he wants her to. She disappears inside the kitchen and closes the door behind her. Inaho glances at himself in the mirror. He is breathing heavily; his hair and clothes are soaked; he looks like a dead man who suddenly climbed out of his grave. Troyard doesn’t look better.

Inaho visits the bathroom and finds the first aid kit on the shelf where he keeps his pills. He crouches near Troyard who hides his head behind his crossed arms. Inaho gently forces him to show his face. Troyard avoids looking him in the eye; Inaho doesn’t mind. He is relieved to see that aside from the bruised lip there is no more damage done to Troyard. His hair is a mess but that may be due to him sleeping before Yuki’s arrival. Inaho doesn’t want to imagine his sister dragging Troyard by his hair. 

“Don’t.” Troyard draws away from his touch but Inaho doesn’t let him. He takes care of the busted lip: cleans the blood with the cotton pads and uses the antiseptic ignoring Troyard’s hissing. When he is sure the wound is clean and the blood has stopped Inaho brings an ice pack from the fridge. He notices Yuki is sitting and leaning heavily on the table, her face red from the silent tears, but he doesn’t pay her attention. Not yet. He wraps the ice pack into a clean towel and leaves it with Troyard. Cold should help to undo the slight swelling.

“Go to your bedroom and rest. I have to deal with my sister. We’ll talk later.”

Troyard doesn’t protest. He gets up and slowly walks inside his bedroom stumbling around the furniture like he is in a daze. His posture radiates exhaustion but it doesn’t feel like the usual tiredness Inaho is familiar with. No, it is on a completely different level judging from the way Troyard’s body is shaking and the way his hand tries to grab the doorframe for the support and misses it. It feels like Troyard can’t breathe anymore and can fall down any second. Inaho looks away and directs himself to the kitchen.

“I… I’m sorry, Nao,” is the first thing Inaho hears when he enters the kitchen. Yuki’s voice sounds weak and troubled. She doesn’t look at him. “I was so worried about you… so worried. And when I went in I saw him and I just… lost it. I’m… really sorry. Did I hurt him? There was blood…”

“He’s fine,” Inaho assures. Troyard is definitely not fine but Inaho understands this is something his sister isn’t willing to discuss. Yuki nervously smooths her long hair back and stares at the window. The howl of the rain overtakes the strained silence the house is enveloped in. Inaho moves his chair closer to the table and sits down. He decides against making tea; he’s far too tired for moving around.

“I didn’t want to punch him, I swear…” Yuki’s lips tremble. “I just thought ‘This is the man who ruined my brother’s life’ and then… My hand moved on its own.”

Inaho automatically observes Yuki’s fingers and notices the silver rings. One of them is in the form of a bird; its wings are spread a bit upwards. The ring is probably the reason Troyard’s lip suffered more damage than it should have from the simple punch.

“Yuki, I understand.” Inaho rubs his left temple; the usual pain is starting to coil around it. “I apologize I haven’t seen your messages until today. I should’ve expected you would react like this and prepared accordingly before your arrival. But what’s done is done and I ask of you to be civil to Troyard in the future if you are visiting.”

Yuki nods, still not looking at him, obviously preferring the empty table. “I need time but you have to explain, Nao. We’ve barely talked about the whole matter. We argued so much I thought I was going crazy, and I’m sorry I didn’t try to understand you earlier. So, please, tell me why, Nao? Why? The truth is I’m still so shaken over this I can’t sleep.”

Inaho opts for using the touch to calm Yuki down, and it seems like a right move as soon as he holds her hands. Her fingers are even colder than his own but at least Yuki finally looks at him. The pain in her eyes hurts Inaho. He knows he had failed her, left no hope for their treasured relationship to stay unchanged. So he tries his best to explain even though he doesn’t quite understand it himself.

“I never told you this but the one who asked me to save Troyard back then when the war was ending was the Empress. I had fulfilled her wish and continued to check on Troyard for seven years. No one ever visited him. I had expected the Empress would come to see him eventually, but she didn’t. Moreover, she gave the green light to Hakkinen for his execution. Troyard had stayed in the prison for seven years on her whim just to be discarded like an unneeded toy in the end. That seemed too immoral and inhumane. I couldn’t let the execution take place. Troyard and I... we are similar in some ways and bound by the past. Letting the UFE kill him felt like… killing myself.”

“Nao, this is all very sad, but people don’t usually throw their whole life away for a random person, more so for a criminal who shot them in the head. You always act so smart so why…? Why this time? I can’t…”

“When you decided to leave the orphanage for my sake weren’t you following your emotions rather than logic? You knew nothing about the life that awaited us, how to make food and how to look after a house. Yet you did it,” Inaho roughly points out. “Yuki, I’m telling you I didn’t follow my logic. I followed what I _felt_ was right.”

For a long time Yuki just stares at him as if this is the first time she truly sees Inaho, and he patiently waits accepting the gentle caresses she subjects his hands to while being deep in thought. Inaho leans his head forward a bit and closes his eye; this way it is easier to withstand the worsening pain.

“We’ve changed, Nao, haven’t we?” Yuki says in the end and barely holds back the tears. “Seven years have passed since the war, and we’re still fighting every day against our past. We’ve forgotten how to live and how to be happy. And above all else I wanted my little brother to be happy.”

“Yuki, I’m not little anymore,” Inaho reminds her. “And it is about time you started thinking about your own life. You’re not getting younger.”

“Straightforward as always, aren’t you?” Yuki manages a smile. Inaho’s chest hurts. “Actually… Marito’s been asking me out several times, but I… I couldn’t. Not until I saw you. What do you think, Nao? Should I give the idiot a chance?”

“Just don’t let him buy you alcohol.” Despite the light tone Inaho thinks the aching in his chest won’t go away for a long time.

They talk a bit more. Yuki tells him about her work, about Marito, about Inaho’s friends and brings the letters they wrote to him from her car. Inaho ignores the pounding in his head and allows Yuki to make tea for them both. The rain is still pouring when his sister finally decides to leave. Inaho takes a spare umbrella from the stand and comes outside together with her.

They sit for several minutes inside Yuki’s car. Inaho is staring at her and Yuki’s eyes are focused on the wheel. The sky is getting darker, and Inaho is a bit worried Yuki will have to drive to the town under the bad weather.

“I will stay at the hotel until the morning and only then head home,” Yuki reassures him. “I… need to think over what happened today so it may be a long time until I see you again. But you won’t avoid my calls anymore, Nao, will you?”

“I won’t,” Inaho promises.

“Please, take care of yourself. You look exhausted.”

Inaho watches as Yuki’s car vanishes behind the screen of rain. He goes back to the house, unbuttons his uniform coat and leaves it on the floor. He does the same with his boots and stumbles into the bathroom to take his pills. The world is spinning, and Inaho is glad the house has only one floor, otherwise he could easily fall on the stairs. He walks into Troyard’s bedroom using the wall for support.

It’s very dark inside; the curtains are drawn. Inaho doesn’t see Troyard on the bed so he moves forward and turns on the night lamp. He finds Troyard lying on the floor. The ice pack has long ago transformed into a little pool of water under Troyard’s palm. Inaho settles on the edge of the bed and looks at the unmoving figure. Troyard seems like a corpse.

“What did my sister tell you?” he asks. What he really wants is sleep but he knows he can’t escape the talk. The tear-off calendar on Troyard’s drawer is showing tomorrow is Sunday. Inaho thanks the rare luck. He is not sure he will be able to get up early. Or maybe to get up at all.

“Everything: the execution, the Empress’ decision and your heroic act,” Troyard croaks, and Inaho lowers his forehead onto his hand. He doesn’t have any strength left for any explanations. He feels empty and tired, so very tired. But Troyard doesn’t give him a chance to retreat. “All these years I’ve been living on the sole thought that she has forgiven me. That even if she’d never come to see me there was still some part of her soul that remembered me. I never dared to hope for more than that. But it was foolish. I forgot I wasn’t allowed to hope even for such a little thing. She had left me behind, Kaizuka, and wished for my death. So tell me, tell me, why did you keep me alive? I can’t breathe anymore, Kaizuka. I don’t want to. There is nothing to live for.”

“The execution was a wrong course of act,” Inaho offers. The heaviness is pushing him to close his eye and lie down, yet he persists.

“Nothing in my life was ever right,” Troyard whispers and turns to look at Inaho, his eyes red and face deathly pale. “No need to destroy your own over my insignificant existence. Call the admiral, Kaizuka. Tell him you changed your mind. Go back to your sister, she loves you.”

“No.” Inaho is not going to yield. “When we were falling to Earth I told you I’d shield you. True, I was not acting on my wish back then, but now is a different matter. Your existence is not insignificant. There is no such thing as an insignificant person. I will continue to shield you because I think that’s what is right.”

“To think the only person who’d care about my existence would be my mortal enemy,” Troyard laughs. Inaho stays silent. The rain assaults the house with a renewed force, but the sounds of the raindrops colliding with the roof cannot win over the insane laughter.

Inaho watches as Troyard breaks, as the laughter dies leaving in its stead the tears Inaho saw only once, long-long time ago. Troyard turns his back to him and curls up on the floor trying to conceal his face from Inaho. Inaho can’t leave this time like he did in the past; the cold crawls up his legs and the pain weighs upon him leaving him no choice but to stay. He leans to the side and pulls the blanket closer, turns off the night lamp and then allows his tired body to sink from the bed onto the floor.

“What are you doing?” Troyard asks between the muffled sobs.

Inaho doesn’t answer right away. He moves to rest against Troyard’s back and wraps the blanket around them trying to manage some warmth. Troyard’s bare arms feel cold to his touch. Inaho leaves his hand over the soft fabric of Troyard’s shirt right where it hides the metal locket. The distantly familiar shape of it settles obediently under his palm.

“Shielding both of us from the cold since none of us have any strength left to move,” he clarifies.

Inaho expects some form of resistance or a protest. There are none. Troyard’s breathing slowly quiets down; his shoulders relax; he moves his arm a bit forward under Inaho’s to find a more comfortable position. Inaho presses his forehead against Troyard’s neck; his legs bend alongside Troyard’s. They both still. 

Inaho doesn’t anticipate the warmth to come so soon. But minutes pass, and he can no longer feel the chill of the room - the blanket successfully wards it off. Inaho isn’t used much to the human contact; his sister is the only one who sought it out from him on a constant basis. His friends’ hugs were rare, and shaking hands with his former colleagues quickly became a part of his work he never paid any particular attention to. Yet he can’t deny that holding Troyard is pleasant.

The warmth born between them spreads all over his body and makes him sleepy. The closeness of another living person feels soothing, but also strange in a way. Inaho can’t understand the sudden urge to hold Troyard closer or to breathe in his scent or to rub his cheek against the blonde hair to find out if it is soft. It is not the physical interest though - that one he is able to recognize despite his lack of experience. Inaho is twenty seven years old but he has perfect control over his body. It never disobeys him on such silly and purposeless matters. Something is clearly off with him, weird. But Inaho is so tired that he closes his eye and lets the exhaustion overtake him.

During the night Troyard wakes up twice. When he feels the body in his embrace moving Inaho wakes up too. Both times Troyard seems to be bothered by nightmares but the tiredness sends him back to sleep. Inaho wonders if his presence helps. 

The early Sunday sky is sunny. The rain is gone. Inaho opens his eye because of Troyard’s hand crushing his own in a desperate hold. Troyard is still asleep. Inaho looks at the thin fingers, at how the nails are leaving red marks on the back of his hand and decides against moving. He can doze off for a while longer.

When Inaho finally comes to himself Troyard is already away, having locked himself in the bathroom; Inaho can hear the water running. He thinks about making breakfast but somehow feels too lazy and relaxed to get up. The Sunday promises to be a bit better than the previous day.

Inaho looks at the calendar and checks the date. The spring is going to end soon; the colleagues’ vacations are looming on the horizon which probably means he will have to do even more paperwork. But that isn’t the main problem that worries him. Now that Troyard knows the full truth Inaho wonders if Troyard will be able to cope with the understandable stress, or if the routine established between them is going to change.


	2. Chapter 2

“Do you want me to stay?”

The first time it happens is at the end of June. Inaho is buried in the documents; his workload is so large he has no choice but to bring it home. It is the middle of the night and he continues to read through the boring reports despite the headache. The light of the floor-lamp drowns the living room with the orange color; the shadows are gathering on the floor and walls. Troyard’s bedroom door cracks open, and Troyard stumbles around the furniture before disappearing inside the bathroom. Inaho gets up when he hears Troyard throwing up again.

Inaho realizes that Troyard is trying his best to go on. But it isn’t enough. His nightmares are worsening; his appetite is gone completely. The little conversations they sometimes had before Yuki’s visit are no more; they don’t even drink tea together. If it continues like this Troyard will torture himself to death but Inaho doesn’t know how to help him. There is nothing he can do but watch, like a true supervisor. The thought of it makes him sick.

Troyard lies on the floor near the toilet and stares at the ceiling when Inaho enters the bathroom. He doesn’t move when Inaho brings him a towel, ignores a glass of water and a pillow Inaho carries from the couch. Inaho dares to touch the sweaty forehead to check Troyard’s temperature; the pale hand slaps his palm away.

“Do you want to take a bath?” Inaho doesn’t wait for an answer; he starts the water. Troyard’s skin feels too cold; Inaho needs to warm him up, otherwise Troyard can easily catch a cold, and a cold can be fatal to his weakened state. So far the summer is moody: the rains are not often, but the sun stubbornly hides behind the grey veil of clouds; the weather remains cool.

Inaho rummages on the shelf searching for the essential oils he acquired a while ago. He follows the strict instructions and mixes the oils into the sea salt. When he adds the mixture to the hot bath Troyard finally reacts. The smell of lavender and chamomile seems to grab his attention. He sits, leans onto the tub and presses his cheek to its edge; he avoids Inaho’s gaze.

“Get in. I’ll bring a towel and a bathrobe.” Inaho leaves the room giving Troyard time to undress and get into the bath. He finds the necessary items and decides to fetch his work papers. When he hears the water being turned off he picks up a stool and returns to the bathroom thinking that enough time has passed.

Troyard’s bare back is crisscrossed by scars. Angry red lines whisper of the war and the unimaginable cruelty. Inaho knows about the existence of scars. It is stated in the official reports he received after becoming Troyard’s caretaker. But seeing the past rooted into Troyard’s pale skin is unpleasant. No, the scars themselves do not repulse Inaho; the thought of them staying forever on Troyard’s skin, however, does.

Troyard’s body goes rigid as soon as he hears Inaho enter the room. Inaho watches how Troyard forces himself to calm down: he purposely straightens his back when he gets into the tub. Droplets of water furiously splash onto the dark-red tiles beneath Inaho’s feet. Troyard settles in the tub and faces Inaho. There are scars on his chest too.

“Are you going to stare?” Troyard asks looking at him with half-closed eyes. The calmness radiating from him is so obviously false Inaho prepares himself for a strike, just in case. He lowers on the stool and disregards Troyard’s hostile look. Inaho doesn’t wish to fight.

“I won’t take a risk of you falling asleep here and drowning yourself,” Inaho explains and begins working on his papers. The pile of documents on his lap is unsteady; writing without a proper support is uncomfortable. After several minutes Inaho gets used to it but his back and shoulders hurt.

“Do I look that pitiful to you, Kaizuka?” Troyard spits out. Inaho is glad the attack is verbal. A physical fight against Troyard in the bathroom would be too awkward.

“No, you don’t. Are you trying to provoke me just because I can see your scars?” Inaho retaliates. Frustration flickers on Troyard’s face but it is gone in a second as he pulls himself together.

“Take off your eye-patch, then it will be fair,” Troyard commands him, voice full of venom. He clearly doesn’t expect Inaho to do so. The possibility of them interacting on equal terms is probably too alien for him.

Inaho never shows his wound to anyone, not even his sister. His left eye-socket stays empty after the removal of the analytical engine. He had tried implanting the prosthetic eye once, but his body responded badly with allergy and pain, and medics advised him to leave the wound as it is. So Inaho wears the black eye-patch and takes it off only at night. Yet, he finds Troyard’s demand legitimate. If he is able to see Troyard’s scars then it’s only natural for Troyard to feel more secure if Inaho reveals his own.

He undoes the clasp on the back of his head, takes off his eye-patch and leaves it hanging from the sink. Somehow Inaho feels bare; he’d prefer to have no clothes at all than to be consumed by this bizarre unsettling feeling of being naked. He suppresses the urge to close his left eye-socket and tries to pay no mind to Troyard’s watchful eyes.

Slowly the atmosphere eases. Troyard leans his head back on the rim of the tub and surrenders to the hot water and the pleasant smells. His body relaxes; his lips stay a bit open; his delicate hand nests on the sharp knee peeking out from under the water. Inaho can’t concentrate on his papers; he keeps studying Troyard’s body when he is sure Troyard isn’t looking. Troyard is too thin.

Minutes pass. The mirror behind Inaho gets covered with steam. Troyard’s breathing evens out. The papers fall from Inaho’s lap and scatter over the floor tiles. Inaho catches Troyard just in time before his face disappears under the surface of the water. Troyard looks disoriented when Inaho helps him to get out of the tub. Inaho wraps him in a large towel not caring that they are trampling on the important reports. He can re-do them later.

Troyard’s legs are weak after the bath; Inaho helps him to reach his bed. Troyard sinks on it with a look of utter defeat. He wraps the towel tighter around himself. His lips form a parody of a smile; it’s full of anguish and distress. It seems like he wants to say something but shakes his head and allows the tiredness to overwhelm him.

Inaho remembers about the bathrobe and goes back to get it and clean up the mess. When he returns Troyard is curled up under the blanket. But he is not asleep yet, rather, he tries to fight the sleepiness. His eyes are closing but he rubs them and deliberately changes positions on the bed. Inaho thinks Troyard might be afraid of the nightmares. Usually he gets sick only after the worst ones; Inaho has heard the echoes of many names and pleas and threats by now. It is only during the worst nightmares Troyard is deathly silent.

Right then it happens for the first time. Inaho’s knees touch the bed, and suddenly he hears himself asking, “Do you want me to stay?”

The silence is long. Troyard closes his eyes and lets out a breath. He seems too tired to protest. “Do what you want.”

Inaho goes to change his clothes and gets a blanket from his own bedroom. Troyard moves a bit aside when Inaho climbs on the bed. The mattress dips under their joint weight. Troyard attempts to balance on his side but it is futile: he slides back to the center. Inaho cautiously moves his arm over the blanket that encloses Troyard in the warm cocoon. Troyard doesn’t argue; soon he falls asleep.

Inaho shakes Troyard’s shoulder each time he starts moving restlessly. That way they successfully avoid nightmares. After the sun rises Troyard finally stills; his face becomes calmer. Maybe he is dreaming something pleasant. Inaho dozes off and only opens his eye when Troyard’s forehead touches his chin. Blonde hair tickles Inaho’s cheek. Somehow Troyard has managed to turn inside his cocoon and get closer to Inaho without disturbing him. Inaho can back away but he finds himself finishing the unexpected embrace. He resists the urge to pull Troyard even closer. It feels good in a way he doesn’t understand.

When Troyard wakes up they share a long glance. Troyard patiently waits for Inaho to move away his hand, and when he does Troyard unhurriedly gets up. Inaho allows himself to stay for two more minutes and then leaves the room. They do not discuss the night; the days go on as usual.

A week later on a sunny and hot Sunday evening Yuki sends Inaho a short message. Inaho stops making dinner as the dizziness hits him. There was an accident at Calm’s workplace. Calm is dead. The funeral is going to take place in four days. Inaho knows he is not allowed to be there. He leaves the phone on the kitchen table and stumbles inside his bedroom. He is not sure what he feels.

An hour passes, and the only thing Inaho understands is that something like this shouldn’t have happened but it is useless to wonder why. He can only go on. Darkness settles behind the window and greedily swallows the room; Inaho’s head is pounding. When Troyard opens the door and steps inside Inaho barely reacts.

“Do you… want me to stay?” The words are said hesitantly. Troyard looks like he wants to escape from the room but something holds him there; his hand grips the doorframe. The conflict of emotions on his face is evident. Inaho watches how Troyard’s shadow is shifting on the floor.

Inaho thinks Troyard has probably seen the message on the phone he carelessly left on the table. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing does. Inaho is too tired to think about it. He feels he is drowning in darkness - maddeningly, agonizingly slowly. And there is only Troyard to pull him back.

“Yes, stay.” Somewhere in the distance the sounds of the furious thunderstorm come alive. “I want you to.”

***

Inaho miscalculates. He should’ve spent the night at work or in the city. The storm is too dangerous; the pounding in his head is too strong; the weakness in his hands is too bad; the memories about Calm’s death are too fresh. A lightning cracks the black sky; the loud thunder echoes in his ears. The wind howls; one of the tall trees along the road can’t withstand the onset. The tree falls blocking the road. In the last moment Inaho manages to stir the car the way it should not flip upside down. The last thing he feels is pain inside his skull, then everything goes black.

He is cold. He wants to vomit. There is rain everywhere. He can’t think. He keeps mumbling nonsense about Calm being so bad with kataphrakt controls and Troyard - Troyard holding him, so warm he never wanted the moment to end. Nameless faces surround him. There are flashlights. The ground under his legs is swaying. He allows the people to lead him towards the bright lights.

He stays unconscious for a day. When Inaho opens his eye he sees a hospital room. The sky behind the large window is violet and dark. A nurse comes in; she tells him he has a concussion and that he was very lucky to be found because the probability of someone else using the same old road he was driving along on a stormy night was nil. Inaho has to stay in the hospital for a few days. Before he has a chance to ask for a phone the desire to sleep overwhelms him once again.

The next day Inaho awakes to the loud footsteps.

“Troyard will be taken in our custody and kept in the local prison until you get checked out. They have a nice isolation cell there,” a familiar voice tells him. It takes Inaho a bit of an effort to remember the chief officer of the local UFE outpost. “You are fortunate, Kaizuka, admiral Hakkinen still favors you. No amount of my complains reach him. You do understand that Troyard could’ve run away while you were lazing around here?”

Inaho knows Troyard won’t run; he had many opportunities, he never used them. Inaho’s grip on the blanket tightens; he stops himself before he can say something rude. He doesn’t have the high rank anymore, he has to bear; they both know it. The smirk on the man’s face is disgusting. Inaho controls his voice.

“It won’t happen again.”

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t. Because nothing is going to save Troyard the second time. I do not need mass murderers escaping under my watch. I’ll send a car for you in three days; they will take you to Troyard and deliver you both back to your place. You may take a week off after that. Consider the time as a sign of my generosity and use it to settle things.” The man pats lovingly the straps on his left shoulder and retreats from the room.

Inaho wants to get up and leave the hospital immediately but he can’t. He’s too dizzy, sedated with medication. There is nothing he can do but wait. The worry consumes his chest. Inaho doesn’t expect the UFE to treat Troyard well. He forces himself to dismiss the thought and asks the nurse for a phone.

Inaho makes a few calls and finds out his car has suffered too much damage; it’s a miracle he is alive. The new car will cost him much but he has no choice. Inaho makes all the necessary arrangements. After that he tries to sleep. His body obeys the silent order; Inaho understands that even without having been in an accident he is too tired, exhausted. He needs rest. He needs to get on his feet to take Troyard back.

On the day of his release the nurse gives Inaho his clothes; thankfully, the uniform is washed. Inaho gets inside the military jeep that waits for him near the hospital. The two guards accompany him; they are silent. The driver directs the car to the southern part of the town. Inaho watches the grey sky and ignores the hard looks.

The local prison seems empty; the only staff Inaho meets on the way belongs to the UFE. The space inside consists of three rooms: one is crowded with old furniture and carton boxes, and another holds a spacious cell with several bunk beds - Troyard is not there. When the guards head for the third room Inaho understands that the prison does have an isolation cell, though by now it is obvious the facility is out of use. Since the town is small Inaho presumes that the criminals, if any, are transported to a more proper location.

The guards stop in front of a metal door with a heavy bar on it. Inaho suppresses the impulse to go inside first; he stands still waiting for the door to be unlocked. The darkness inside the cell is thick; there are no lights. One of the guards makes a face: the stench of the sewage coming from the narrow space is awful; the ventilation is clearly not working.

“Get up!” The guard’s voice is unnecessarily harsh. Inaho listens to the rustling of clothes but hears no fight. A moment later the guards step out of the cell holding Troyard under his arms. Troyard looks even worse than before. He is exhausted and can barely stand. His hair is dirty; his lips are chapped; he shivers from the cold. He is in his thin trousers and a light shirt he usually wears at home. Inaho guesses the UFE didn’t give him time to change clothes when they dragged him away.

Something flickers in Troyard’s eyes when they pass Inaho, but he quickly lowers his head. Inaho is at a loss whether Troyard does it because the daylight is hurting his eyes or because he wants to hide his emotions. Inaho lets the guards lead the way out of the prison. He looks at Troyard’s wrists covered with purplish bruises, and a feeling of anger overcomes him once again.

“I will sit with the prisoner,” Inaho says when they step out of the building. One of the guards shoves Troyard inside the jeep and spits on the ground showing his disgust.

“As if anyone would want to sit near that scum.”

Inaho doesn’t pay attention to the rude words. They don’t matter. What matters is Troyard’s safety. Inaho gets on the backseat and calms down only when he feels Troyard’s thigh pressed into his own. Troyard refuses to look at him, but he doesn’t move away either. As soon as the jeep pulls away from the prison, the rain comes crashing down on earth. 

The car rushes through the town; the guards discuss the weather in hushed voices throwing distrustful looks at Inaho and Troyard. The road seems long; Troyard is tense despite Inaho’s presence. But once the jeep arrives at the familiar brick fence, Troyard’s body sags in an obvious relief. Inaho holds Troyard’s arm and helps him to get out of the car. The guards only watch them; they are not eager to deal with the prisoner more than it’s needed. Inaho is glad.

A minute later they are finally left alone. The rain is merciless, but Troyard isn’t in a hurry to get inside the cottage. The door unlocks easily; the living room looks untouched. Inaho turns to call Troyard inside, but the words die on his lips.

The rain is merciless, yet Troyard is standing under it, eyes closed, hands outstretched a bit, water running down the pale face and neck, soaking his thin and dirty clothes. The realization hits Inaho full-force. The UFE probably didn’t let Troyard out of the isolation cell for the whole duration of Inaho’s stay at the hospital. Four days of being alone in the darkness… Did they feed him properly? Did they let him go to the toilet? Did they even tell him about Inaho’s circumstances? Or did Troyard stay in that narrow space for four days, breathing in the stench of the sewage and thinking that Inaho had abandoned him?

Inaho makes no move to hurry Troyard into the house. He fights the sudden sickness. The fear that he may fail Troyard in the future is too strong. He had given away his life already, yet it still isn’t enough. Troyard will never be safe without Inaho by his side. Inaho realizes he has to do something. Maybe not now - he doesn’t have any strength left; he doesn’t have any official power; he can’t think of any ideas or plans right now. He will have to watch after himself more carefully, he will have to watch over Troyard, he will have to find something - anything - in the future. He can’t allow the situation to repeat itself.

“Thank you, Kaizuka.” The words are said so quiet Inaho almost misses them. Troyard steps inside the house; for a brief moment his fingers touch the doorframe longingly. Inaho’s heart skips a beat. He retreats into the kitchen.

He knows he won’t allow himself any miscalculations again.

***

A year passes. Yuki comes to see Inaho once; she doesn’t bring any letters. Inaho nods seeing how Yuki averts her eyes when he brings it up. Missing a friend’s funeral must seem disrespectful. Inaho accepts his friends’ choices and doesn’t ask Yuki to deliver the envelopes he had prepared; they stay hidden inside his desk.

Yuki looks happy. She says Marito treats her well. They are not planning the marriage yet but their relationship is good. The prospect of having her own family makes her dreamy. Yuki is full of life; Inaho can almost feel the energy pulsing inside her. They both know he won’t have a chance to be present at her wedding but they don’t discuss it. Yuki hugs him tightly before leaving. Inaho thinks he won’t see her in the next couple of years.

At least his work gets a bit easier after his colleagues become tired of the pitiful attempts to anger him. They still don’t like him and the workload is gruesome, but it is something Inaho can cope with.

His headaches are less too; he uses his pills twice a week instead of every day. Inaho concludes it’s the result of Troyard’s help. Troyard cooks more now and looks after the house by himself; Inaho only buys all the necessary items and ingredients. Troyard lists them for Inaho in the notes he sticks to the fridge; sometimes he even draws little flower petals on them.

Troyard also begins working on the garden. Inaho is astonished at his adamant desire to plant flowers and herbs. Inaho considers it a waste of time, but then he realizes that, perhaps, time is what Troyard will never ever lack. The thought forces Inaho to venture out into the town where he purchases the gardening tools. As an afterthought he also acquires a personal laptop for Troyard. After that Inaho often finds Troyard in the living room reading about plants on the web.

At nights they sleep together. Nowadays it happens more often than not. Inaho doesn’t know if it’s a result of him unwillingly leaving Troyard to spend time in the isolation cell (Inaho doesn’t like to remember those days at all), but he quickly becomes used to waking up feeling the familiar shape of Troyard’s body - in the mornings Troyard likes to move closer. Inaho thinks Troyard must be unconsciously seeking comfort. Inaho gives him what he can with simple touch. He doesn’t know what else he can share; he is not good with the emotional support. Yet somehow it seems to work: as the time progresses Troyard’s nightmares give way for much calmer dreams.

Sometimes Inaho finds himself to be the one who is given comfort: when the headaches are bad Troyard tends to him the entire night. He brings Inaho pills and water and massages his head; his touch is light and careful, gentle. He is the one who holds Inaho in the morning; Inaho doesn’t complain. It feels good.

There is nothing sexual about this new part of routine. Usually they ask each other if the other’s presence is welcomed. Troyard tends to stay in the living room waiting for Inaho to finish his work if he wants to share the bed. Inaho makes sure to show he is in pain if he needs help. There are the bad days when Inaho wordlessly lies down and Troyard immediately approaches him. There are the bad nights when Troyard knocks on his bedroom door and Inaho moves to give him space on the bed.

There is nothing sexual about sleeping or waking up together until suddenly there is. Inaho wakes up before Troyard; he moves to stretch a bit. It’s hot in the room; the sun is already up. Troyard chooses this moment to press his hips against Inaho’s leg. Inaho freezes. Troyard is aroused; he feels it through the sheet Troyard uses as a blanket. Inaho doesn’t consider it strange though. It is merely a physical reaction that can happen to any man. Troyard has been sleeping a lot lately and gained some weight; perhaps, his body rested enough to remind him about this particular need. Inaho simply decides to get up before Troyard does.

Inaho forgets all about the morning until it happens again. And again. And again. Troyard starts escaping first; his teeth are chattering after the cold showers. Inaho wonders whether Troyard knows anything about self-pleasuring or not and if he should advise Troyard on how to deal with the problem. Not that Inaho is more knowledgeable; his body has been silent ever since the start of the war.

In the end Inaho gets tired of the ridiculous commotion. Troyard has managed to catch a cold; and Inaho is forced to drive to the apothecary in the middle of the night (he is too worried to wait until morning). The next time Inaho encounters the problem he waits for Troyard to wake up. The wrist under his grip is pleasantly warm. Inaho is more or less sure Troyard trusts him so he feels no doubts in voicing his offer.

“I can help you with that.” 

Troyard follows Inaho’s gaze to his own hips. Inaho expects the disbelief or anger. There is none. Troyard moves his arm to cover his eyes and stays silent. Inaho accepts the silence as an approval and pulls the white sheet away. Troyard startles when Inaho places his hand on his uncovered belly. Inaho patiently waits. No objections come.

The bare chest piques Inaho’s curiosity: during the summer Troyard puts only the pajama pants on. Inaho doesn’t dare to touch the scars though. The touch may seem too personal; Inaho isn’t aiming for that. He reaches into the drawer and takes out a bottle of lube (he was in a hurry when he went into the apothecary out of worry for Troyard’s health, and the owner used his haste to make him purchase stuff he didn’t need). The bottle feels cold in his hands; Inaho pours the lube onto his palm and waits a bit for it to warm up.

Troyard stays unmoving, but his cock yearns for attention: it lies hard against his belly. Inaho’s gaze studies Troyard: the size of his cock is a bit larger than Inaho’s own; a small vein circles seductively its body. Inaho decides he’ll explore its curves later. He moves closer to Troyard and leans on one arm to support himself.

Inaho wraps gently his hand around Troyard’s cock. It’s been a long time since he pleasured himself and though he remembers he liked it harder he’s not sure about Troyard’s preferences. He plays it safe: his grip is light, movements are slow; he doesn’t touch Troyard’s ball sack or the pleasurable little place behind it. A sigh escapes Troyard’s lips; one of his legs moves to the side bending in the knee, toes curling. It seems like Troyard’s body wants to open to Inaho more, but a second later Troyard stops himself and lets his arms fall down on the bed.

Troyard seems agitated, yet he doesn’t tell Inaho to stop. The sea blue eyes are devouring Inaho’s face. Inaho keeps looking at how his hand caresses Troyard’s cock. Somehow it feels enthralling - the way his fingers slowly slide up and down the slightly curved cock, the way it feels under his touch - hot, hard and wet from lube. Troyard tries to control his breathing but fails. Especially when Inaho pauses his movements to tease the delicate head with his thumb. Troyard pants; his face becomes flushed; one of his hands searches for something to grab onto but only finds a pillow. Troyard pushes the pillow off the bed with a dissatisfied grunt.

“Faster.” The demand is understandable, but Inaho feels a strange sense of protest. He doesn’t know why but he doesn’t want the process to end yet. 

“You’ll come too soon,” he says. Troyard’s arm suddenly flies up, grabs his shoulder and pushes him down. Troyard’s fingers sink into Inaho’s arm, but Inaho is too fascinated by the opened lips so close to him to notice the pain. If he leans just a bit forward they can kiss. Before Inaho processes the thought Troyard turns sideways and presses his cheek against Inaho’s shoulder. Inaho is left staring at Troyard’s exposed neck.

“Just… just do it like… this.” Troyard’s fingers wrap themselves over Inaho’s on Troyard’s throbbing cock. Inaho allows Troyard to set the pace and show him the way he likes the strokes. Their fingers slide together up and down in a bit faster way. Troyard’s hold tightens, he guides Inaho’s hand in a curious twisting way Inaho never tried when dealing with his own arousal.

Minutes pass; Troyard removes his hand, evidently satisfied now by Inaho’s efforts to please him. They lie on the bed, almost pressed into each other, almost one unity, almost like lovers, but Inaho discards the thought. He is just eager to help as they share a life now. Inaho wonders if Troyard understands it too. If it’s what makes him so open, so trusting and so… attractive.

Before everything ends Troyard moves both his arms over Inaho’s back, pulling him even more closely, nails scratching his shoulders. Troyard’s body arches; lips hold back a moan; hot breaths burn Inaho’s shoulder. Inaho squeezes the last drops of come out of Troyard’s cock on autopilot; his brain is too full of Troyard - his familiar scent, his warm body, his hair tickling Inaho’s chin. The world around transforms into a mess of alien senses. Logic tells Inaho to back off; he doesn’t. He stays until both Troyard’s arms free him from their grasp.

Troyard looks at him, sleepy and calm and maybe just a bit puzzled. While Inaho rummages the drawer for the moist tissue box Troyard dozes off. Inaho cleans his hand and covers Troyard with a sheet. Somehow it is hard to leave the room, but skipping work is not a wise course of action.

They meet in the evening, and Inaho is glad to find that nothing has changed. Troyard is not hostile; on the contrary, he seems more relaxed. They go about their usual routine for several days until Inaho encounters the problem of Troyard’s morning libido once again. He starts on it before Troyard fully wakes up. This time though Troyard rolls on his side and reaches for the lube too. Inaho thinks Troyard is going to guide him again; he certainly doesn’t expect to feel Troyard’s hand on his own cock.

“I’m not aroused, therefore I require no assistance,” Inaho honestly tells him.

Troyard’s lips twitch almost into a smile. He stares at Inaho, amused. Inaho tries to comprehend the sudden change of atmosphere, but when Troyard’s hand moves over his cock, and Inaho does get aroused in less than a minute, he thinks that, perhaps, the victory in this short spontaneous battle should go to Troyard.

Five minutes later Inaho comes hard, his own hand still working on Troyard’s cock. He doesn’t know if he ever felt so good.

Just like that a year passes.

***

A romantic kind of love is something Inaho doesn’t understand. Of course, building a home to come back to is nice, and breeding is important too for the mankind’s survival. But love itself has never been obligatory, and therefore it doesn’t have to be. Love clouds minds, forces people to act illogically. It can stain a person’s future in an irreparable way. Love breaks people. Inaho thinks Troyard is a bright example of that.

The sun is setting. The red sky paints Asseylum’s beige dress into a bloody color. The rising wind tears the weakened foliage off the trees. Asseylum waves her hand and three guards in the Vers uniform bow politely, then retreat to the military car that waits behind the gates.

Inaho makes a step back, and lets Asseylum inside the cottage. The glass Troyard holds lands on the floor; the sound of crashing loud and unavoidable. Asseylum throws a short and indifferent glance at Troyard and turns back to Inaho, her smile eerily cheerful. Inaho blinks and checks his phone for any notices about the Empress’ visit, but there are none.

“Inaho.” Her voice sounds older; she easily drops the honorifics. Inaho remembers Asseylum is already a mother; her firstborn must be around four years old. “It’s been so long. How are you?”

Inaho doesn’t invite Asseylum to sit on the couch. Her visit is preposterous. It is Sunday; Inaho is in his home clothes and slippers. They were going to watch a movie together with Troyard before heading to bed. Now the plans are ruined; Troyard will be too shaken for anything of the kind. Inaho feels irritation stirring deep inside. “Is there a problem that required your immediate visit?”

“Oh, do forgive me for coming without notice. I’ve just had a meeting with the UFE, and Admiral Hakkinen filled me in on… your situation.”

So Hakkinen still meddles, still wants him to come back. Inaho is not sure what to think of it yet, but a curious thought settles at the back of his mind. He may be able to use this information later; for now he has to deal with Asseylum. Inaho looks at Troyard and sees him crouching on the floor slowly picking up the shattered glass pieces. Troyard doesn’t dare to lift his head. Inaho hopes he won’t cut his hands.

“I do not have a ‘situation’,” Inaho tries to assure the Empress. “Rather, I made a carefully weighed decision, and I do not intend to reconsider.”

“Inaho, I know I’ve asked of you much in the past, but I was young and foolish. Sadly, we can’t save everyone. I understand it now, and I have hoped that you’d let go of Troyard after a while like I did.” There is sincerity in Asseylum’s voice. She truly believes in what her mouth is spouting. The ire Inaho feels makes his head spin.

“Slaine Troyard is right behind my back, and you’re talking as if he’s not there,” he makes the last attempt to reach the Asseylum he once knew.

“Slaine Troyard doesn’t exist for me anymore, but you do, and I care about you, and that’s why…”

Inaho hears how the glass pieces scatter over the floor once again. But this time Troyard doesn’t try to gather them; his empty eyes are staring at the blood that trickles down his palm. Inaho grips Asseylum’s elbow almost painfully. “Enough. Leave this house, Asseylum.”

Perhaps, it is his cold look or the strength of his grip or the way he pronounces her name, but Asseylum finally obeys. Her posture loses all its confidence. She steps outside and her eyes roam, roam desperately his face just like in the past when she needed his affirmation, his knowledge, his guidance. Inaho shuts the door right to her face. He feels angry and tired. He is glad, however, to hear the sound of the departing car.

Troyard lets him treat the small wound on his palm. Inaho sticks a band aid over the pale skin, but doesn’t let go of Troyard’s hand until Troyard lifts his head to look at him.

“I’m all right,” his lips whisper, but Inaho knows he is not. It is one thing to hear the truth from Yuki, and completely another from the mouth of the woman who you’ve given away your whole life for. For the first time in his life Inaho regrets the Tanegashima accident more than he ever did.

The sunset burns away. Heavy clouds gather hiding the distant stars. Troyard sits on the windowsill silently staring at his lifeless reflection in the window. Inaho brings him a cup of hot minty tea but Troyard doesn’t move. Time freezes. Inaho wanders around the cottage until it is time to sleep. Everything feels off, wrong, broken again. Inaho isn’t even surprised to see Troyard in his room after he gets out of the bath.

That night Troyard is brutal. It is not one of their usual, wonderfully slow mornings when they lie face to face and pleasure each other just for the sake of it. There is no gentleness, no patience, no vague teasing. Troyard pushes Inaho into the bed like a starved vulture. Inaho hits his shoulder against the headboard; pain blooms on his skin. Troyard growls, saddling his hips, and hastily unbuttons his jeans. Inaho tries to catch Troyard’s eyes, but it is futile. He takes a breath. When Troyard reaches for his hand Inaho decides to oblige.

Troyard moves in abrupt, erratic movements. He doesn’t need the physical release; he wants to forget, to distract himself from the truth he probably thought he had overcome. Inaho is no more than a tool for him right now, and he doesn’t like it. But it is infinitely better than the nightmares and the hostility and the dead silence that ruled the cottage after they had just arrived here.

Inaho watches the tip of Troyard’s cock sliding in and out of the ring of his and Troyard’s fingers. Troyard’s hold on Inaho’s hand is tight, he doesn’t want to let go and allow Inaho to control the thrusts. The loud panting is bordering on desperate sobbing. Inaho resists the sudden desire to embrace Troyard. ‘It’s not what he wants,’ he tells himself.

It doesn’t continue for long. Blonde hair in complete disarray, shoulders shaking, Troyard moans and throws back his head when he comes. Inaho’s bathrobe gets a bit dirty, but he doesn’t mind it; he’s already used to changing bedsheets often after their morning pastimes. Troyard’s cock slowly softens; Troyard moves their hands away when the caresses become too much for him.

For a moment Troyard holds Inaho’s hand, looking lost in thought; their slippery fingers entwine.

“Kaizuka… please.” Inaho shivers. He had already heard that kind of Troyard’s voice once. He feels a strong sense of déjà vu. There is no need for Troyard to utter any other words. Inaho understands what he wants to say. But that won’t change his answer.

“No. You’re going to live.”

Pure rage overfills Troyard. He crashes Inaho’s arm into the bed and doesn’t let him move, his other hand claws hold of Inaho’s neck. Inaho is too late to counter the attack; he grips Troyard’s wrist but it’s not enough to force him to let go. Inaho gasps. The stormy eyes above him are hazy with fury. There is an option of trying to strangle Troyard too with his free hand but Inaho decides against it. He doesn’t want to hurt Troyard, not even when his own life is in danger. Troyard has been hurt too much already, by Inaho too.

Inaho stops his attempts to struggle and just holds onto Troyard’s shoulder. If this is the consequence of his war crimes and bad choices then so be it.

His chest burns; there is no air; the colors around him dim. Inaho sees no more.

“-aizuka! Kaizuka, breathe! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, breathe.”

There are hands on his face - gentle, trembling, worried. Inaho rolls onto his side and coughs gulping for air. Troyard moves over him like a desperate beast that had almost lost its precious cub. Inaho feels Troyard pressing his forehead against his shoulder and how Troyard crumples his bathrobe, holding it in his hands.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, and, while Inaho tries to recover, hastily disappears from the bedroom.

It takes Inaho five minutes to gather all his strength and follow Troyard outside. It is dark; the rain is everywhere; the sound of it hurts his ears. Inaho sees Troyard right in front of the cottage, sitting in the dirt on his knees.

“When will it end? Why won’t you stop? Why won’t you just stop?” Troyard’s fist lands hard against his chest, right over his beating heart. Once, twice, and then he bends over, his forehead almost meets the mud the earth has turned into and he screams.

Inaho watches him until something painfully pulls at his heart. That weird ‘something’ tells him to go out there and steal Troyard from the rampant rain, from the ugly scars on his body, from the nightmares of the unchangeable past. Inaho staggers at the porch and leans heavily against the door. If he was younger he probably wouldn’t have succeeded in identifying the strange feeling. But he thinks he knows now. It’s the only logical conclusion.

Inaho watches Troyard howling into the autumn rain and falls in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know I said there was going to be 2 chapters only, but Inasure just went and told me 'nope, you're gonna write a 3rd chapter too', so... Not sure when I'm going to update, but the 3rd WILL be the last chapter (I hope). x)


	3. Chapter 3

Inaho quells the sudden longing for their closeness and waits until Troyard goes back to the cottage, then he too retreats to his room, unseen. He sets the alarm clock for the usual time. The bed linen is crumpled but he doesn’t have the will to change it. He puts on his pajamas and lies down. His throat hurts; he ignores the pain and forces himself to sleep.

The touch is light, timid. Inaho doesn’t awake at once. Shivers run up his elbow - Troyard’s fingers are cold. Inaho opens his eye. The grey dawn light seeps into the room; it is still two hours before the alarm goes off. Troyard is lying next to Inaho; his body smells of the lemongrass gel-shower and the smell somehow seems soothing.

There is nothing in Troyard’s eyes, only emptiness, yet Inaho feels as if this time something is different. Troyard keeps looking at him silently, calmly; his fingers are slowly caressing Inaho’s palm. Inaho opens up his fingers more and lets their hands entwine.

The unity of the touch is new and mysterious, electrifying. It births a fire within Inaho, and the fire spreads over his body with unbidden, yet gentle flames. He feels as if he wants these flames to wrap Troyard into their embrace, to bind them together. Troyard shifts on the bed, his movements careful, but Inaho senses no doubts, and a second later they become one person. Just like that: legs wrapped around each other; hands tied into an unbreakable bond; mouths close, breathing the same air, but not kissing, not quite yet.

The feelings that invade Inaho are strange, unexplainable, yet at the same time everything feels right. Troyard closes his eyes; his hand goes up Inaho’s arm and, finally, he stills, one hand tied to Inaho’s, the other almost shyly touching his shoulder.

Inaho tries to sleep but he cannot. The moment is something special, something he has never experienced before. He feels calm, he feels safe, he feels like his whole life he’s been desperately running, planning, searching for something like this, and he has failed, failed thousands of times, but the moment still came, and he feels complete - in a sense his genius mind can’t even begin to describe.

Inaho wonders if Troyard feels it too, but the moment shifts too soon. He hears Troyard saying, “You should sleep. You have work today.” And he has no choice but to let it go and salvage the only thing he is able to - their sudden closeness.

***

The following month feels odd. Inaho gets up every day and goes to work like usual, but he and Troyard do not sleep together like they used to before Asseylum’s visit. Troyard spends most days on the windowsill; he doesn’t eat much, doesn’t look after the house, stops caring about his garden, ceases watching TV or reading and ignores Inaho’s attempts to start a conversation. It seems like the only thing that interests him now is the view of the withering trees.

The days stay dry and cold; it doesn’t rain often. Fog surrounds their cottage and drowns the hills and the forest around into a bleak grey veil. Sometimes Inaho thinks Troyard wants to disappear behind that veil; he starts waking up during the night to check whether Troyard is still in the house. He always lets out a relaxed sigh when he finds Troyard on the same spot.

Inaho knows his feelings are a mess; it gets hard to fight the desire for intimacy. Not the sexual one; what he wants is to come up to Troyard and touch him, wrap his arms around him and stay like that forever. These thoughts are illogical and irritating; they grate on his mind, because he doesn’t know what words to say or what actions to take to approach Troyard and receive the permission. There is also no one he can ask for an advice. He can’t exactly call Yuki and tell her about this; she’ll probably be horrified.

November turns out to be as chilly as October, but the snow has yet to fall. One of the Saturdays Inaho gets home late. He is glad tomorrow is the weekend; his head feels heavy, he expects the migraine. He stops dead on the porch, however, when he sees there are no lights inside the cottage. For the first time in his life something close to fear coils in the pit of his stomach. Inaho forces himself to step into the house and inspect it. The cottage is empty; the tracking bracelet lies on the kitchen table. Inaho feels his knees going weak.

It takes him an hour to stand back up and take the bottle of whiskey out of the cupboard. He doesn’t quite remember why he has alcohol stacked at home. Was it Yuki who brought it during her last visit or was it the present of the local shop owner for always using his services? Inaho doesn’t care right now; he puts on his warm jacket and brings the bottle outside, then lowers himself onto the steps of the porch.

He doesn’t know what to do. He guesses he can keep Troyard’s escape a secret for several days, maybe a month or two if he gets lucky and the local UFE chief officer won’t decide to visit him for an inspection as he already did this year. He guesses he can do as he is supposed to - put forth an alarm and start the searching company but that will definitely mean Troyard’s future execution if they ever find him. In both options Inaho will never again feel Troyard’s hands on him and will never be able to touch him, to have his warmth. So Inaho does the only thing he can do right now - he opens the bottle and makes a long drink.

He thinks he is a failure: as an UFE officer, as a family member, as a caretaker, as a human, really. The whiskey is burning his throat; it tastes awful, but Inaho doesn’t stop. The darkness gathers around him; thick fog flaunts to his feet. The dark silhouettes of the trees stand guard all around him, blaming him, condemning him to the loneliness. Inaho doesn’t feel the cold, maybe because there is no wind. He drinks and drinks and drinks until his head is filled with lead, and he leans his temple against the wooden railing.

It is over, he thinks, everything is over. He has given his life away to save a person, just one person, and he has failed.

The dawn comes slowly, reluctantly. Inaho dares not to move; he thinks his body is made of ice now, and if he moves he’ll break and will be eaten by the fiendish fog. The bottle stays empty now, and Inaho is scared to look at it, because he knows that if he looks at it, he’ll realize that he has no more means to distract himself from the looming future. He closes his hurting eye for a minute, breathes in the morning cold.

When he looks at the world again the view changes. The sky is dark grey, a bit lighter in that corner where the sun is supposed to rise; the clingy fog recedes towards the forest; the trees rustle, baring themselves of the last dead foliage. Troyard walks up to Inaho, his lips blue from the cold, yet he keeps blowing air onto his bare palms. Inaho blinks, but this time the view doesn’t change.

Troyard stumbles when he sees Inaho and stops in front of the porch. Inaho examines the deep frown on his face and shivers when Troyard suddenly rolls the sleeve of his jacket up and looks at his bare wrist. “Shit,” flies easily off his lips, and Inaho catches himself thinking that the word is too inexpressible for what has transpired this night.

“I forgot to put the bracelet back after showering,” Troyard says and lowers himself on knees in front of Inaho. Inaho lets Troyard take his cold hands into his own, but there is no warmth. They both seem to be very cold. “I wanted to walk, take my mind off things. I didn’t go very far, I swear, just kept walking around until it got dark, then climbed a tree. I used to do it when I was a child… God, I’m so sorry, Kaizuka. Did you really think I’d run away? Did you spend the night here?”

Inaho doesn’t answer. He has no strength left to speak or move. He closes his eye again, feeling empty, drained of everything. He wants to doze off, but Troyard doesn’t let him. Inaho feels as familiar hands steer him up and lead him back inside the cottage. He stumbles, leans on Troyard and allows him to bring them both to the bathroom. Inaho has to admit Troyard is more than effective when it comes to divesting them both of clothes.

In a matter of minutes they both are naked and standing under the sprays of warm water. Troyard holds him, doesn’t let him fall; he has one hand wrapped around Inaho’s back, the other one on his shoulder. Inaho’s head is spinning and he can barely control his body. It is funny how his mind is more or less clear, but his coordination is completely off. It must be the whiskey’s fault. He is glad when Troyard makes him sit on the edge of the tub. Even with his support Inaho isn’t sure he can keep standing.

“Look at me,” Troyard suddenly says and Inaho focuses his gaze on the sea blue eyes. Once again Troyard sits at his feet; he puts his elbows onto Inaho’s thighs and regards Inaho with a serious look. This is the first time Inaho sees Troyard like that - somehow strong and unwavering. “You’ve given everything for me. I still don’t understand the reason for it, but don’t think I do not cherish it. You are the first person to care so much about me despite everything. You are selfless, Kaizuka, and of all people on this planet I never expected it from you.”

Troyard takes a deep breath, pauses, wipes off the drop of water that lingers on the tip of Inaho’s nose. “After the Empress came here, I thought I was broken. I thought I couldn’t take it, not anymore. But you were there, by my side, always by my side, watching me, worrying about me, longing for me even when I was such a mess, even though I hurt you, almost killed you with my own hands. Twice.”

Inaho wants to interrupt Troyard but Troyard shakes his head slowly and runs his hands up Inaho’s thighs, stopping only a centimeter away from his private parts. Inaho forgets everything he wants to say. “I have decided I will never run, Kaizuka. I will stand by your side as well. I will give you everything that is left of me, if you want me. I am not much; I will never be able to give you much because I’ve wasted myself for people who never really cared, and I see it now. But I want to try it, this one last time. I want to leave the past behind. Because I’ve learned to trust you and because you’re the only person who… had never left me behind.”

“Yes,” Inaho croaks. He wants to say so many things, to ask a hundred of questions - about Troyard’s mother, about his father, about his childhood, about his times on Vers; he wants to tell him how much he is afraid to fail him, to lose him, to hurt him; he wants to reassure him that he is more than just a ‘not much’, that he is beautiful and warm and enchanting and so very strong, but all he can do in his drunken state is say just one silly word, and he feels rage over his previous idiotic desperation, over the act of drinking and reducing himself to this pitiful condition. He is so afraid Troyard won’t understand what his silly ‘yes’ truly encompasses.

Inaho attempts to move, and it is a wrong choice; his legs are still uncooperative. He slides down into the wet and slippery tub, looking like a complete idiot. Troyard tries to catch him but as a result goes down with him, then sets himself over Inaho’s abdomen, throws his head back and suddenly - laughs. Then laughs again because the shower water gets into his mouth and he spits it back out. Inaho is entranced; this is the first time he sees Troyard laughing.

“I feel alive,” Troyard says and puts his hand over Inaho’s beating heart. “With you.”

Inaho raises his hand to touch the wet tips of hair that cling to Troyard’s cheek. He feels bewitched, he feels complete, he feels unexplainably happy, and when Troyard touches his hand and holds it against his cheek, the strange heat once again swallows Inaho. It forces him to move his palm onto Troyard’s neck and to push him downwards, gently. He meets no resistance. Troyard just closes his eyes and follows his guidance. Their lips meet for the first time.

Inaho lets his fingers caress Troyard’s soft hair. The skin under his touch is tender and warm, but he can still feel the underlying strength of Troyard’s body, strength that yielded to him, accepted him, and gave him the right to get so close. Inaho can’t fight the emotions; he feels helpless, he wants more of Troyard, he wants to join their bodies in a way he doesn’t understand. What he only manages though is some writhing and an undignified gasp.

Sadly, the kiss ends as soon as it starts. Troyard leans back and laughs again. “God, Kaizuka. You reek of alcohol. You should brush your teeth and go to sleep. Come on, I’ll help you.”

Inaho complies; it’s the best course of action for now. They stumble into his bedroom ten minutes later, Inaho half-lying on Troyard’s shoulder, and Troyard helps him to get into bed. The dizziness is bothersome, and Inaho is glad to finally breathe in the smell of fresh sheets. Yet, for some reason he can’t allow himself to relax; he keeps searching for Troyard’s silhouette in the darkness while Troyard silently wanders around his room and puts his crumpled uniform into the wardrobe.

“I’ll be right there when you wake up,” Troyard whispers when he notices Inaho’s worry, and somehow Inaho believes him.

The odd month ends, leaving Inaho feeling even more confused than before.

***

They hold hands. Inaho considers this particular intimacy strange but he likes it. They hold hands while sitting on the couch and watching movies; they hold hands when they walk around the cottage before sleep; they hold hands when they eat breakfast together. Funny thing half of the time Inaho is the one who initiates the touch, and it baffles him. Sometimes he raises their joined hands to his eye and inspects them thoughtfully under Troyard’s mocking gaze. Troyard says nothing however and allows him to take his time.

In December the first snow finally falls. It is evening, and Troyard sits on the porch, staring at the dark sky and catching the small snowflakes with his bare hands. The porch is shrouded in darkness while Inaho stands in the hallway, embraced by the warm electric lights. The weird feeling of fear overwhelms Inaho; his throat goes dry. It seems like Troyard can disappear any minute, carried away by the winter world.

“Slaine,” Inaho uses Troyard’s name unconsciously, his voice gets a bit hoarse. He doesn’t remember if he ever called Troyard by his name before. Probably never. Troyard turns his head and stares at him, looking a bit lost; his eyes longingly stray over Inaho’s face and hands. “Come back inside.”

And Slaine does.

That night they kiss for the first time since that day when Inaho got drunk. After supper they stumble in the darkness to Inaho’s room. Slaine is the one who leads them and undresses them because all Inaho can do is try not to fall. His head is dizzy in the most pleasant of ways; his thoughts scatter; all he can feel is Slaine’s warm skin and he wants more of it. He lets his hands roam Slaine’s back greedily since his shirt is already unbuttoned.

They land on the bed, wrapped around each other, still kissing, Slaine on top of him. Inaho slides his hands over Slaine’s arms, feeling their outline, enjoying their shape and weight. Slaine makes a strange sound at the back of his throat, breaks the kiss and suddenly swaps their positions. Inaho finds himself sitting over Slaine’s thighs, breathless.

“You do it,” Slaine says. “I don’t exactly have experience.”

“I don’t too,” Inaho admits. He thinks he had plenty of opportunities, but was never interested. It’s truly a riddle why he reacts so much only to Slaine Troyard. Is it the effect of falling in love? Is it always like this for other couples? “We’ll have to study the info on the net.”

Slaine laughs, then snorts, touching Inaho’s arms and pulling him closer. “I think we can get by without it, Kaizuka. We both are almost thirty, really. Insert object ‘a’ into object ‘b’ - I don’t think that’s a very hard task for you.”

Inaho frowns. “I don’t want to do anything wrong. We can do... other things.”

“No,” Slaine’s voice is adamant. “I want you to do it. Right now. With me. Call me impatient, call me an egoist, but I want it right now.” 

Inaho is still unconvinced, and Slaine obviously feels that from the way his body is tense, because next minute he whispers, slowly caressing Inaho’s hair, “Let me be greedy, Inaho. I want to feel how much you want me. No one’s ever wanted me for _me_. You are the only one.”

At those words Inaho shudders. Because Slaine says his name. Because Slaine is trusting him with himself. Because the understanding of the words dawns hard upon him. Because Slaine deserves so much better than what Inaho can ever give him. Being a war hero, a prodigy, a respectable adult - nothing could prepare him for this moment. Inaho almost feels the pain of being ‘not enough’, lacking, worthless, but there is no way he can ignore Slaine’s request.

So he does his best. And through the rest of the night they hold hands.

***

Inaho thinks the atmosphere is a bit awkward. And it is strange because they both, surely, have never felt like this after pleasuring each other before. The kitchen drowns in sunlight; Inaho stops near the counter to pour himself a cup of his morning coffee. Slaine sits at the table and devours his usual tea.

“I had your cock in me,” Slaine mumbles mercilessly, and it makes Inaho almost choke on his drink. 

“Does it… hurt?” Inaho asks quietly, worried. The night experience was new, so new that it left him breathless and disturbed. In the end Inaho wasn’t able to reach his share of final pleasure; his cock went limp right after he took care of Slaine. It must have been because he was so much concentrated on pleasuring Slaine that when he had achieved his goal, the feeling of relief overwhelmed any other feelings he had.

“No, I’m just trying to realize… I really had your cock in me,” Slaine says, looking dazed, then adds, “And I liked it.”

“I need to get to work,” Inaho coughs, drops his cup of coffee back onto the table and escapes the cottage. Hearing Slaine talk this way is arousing, and Inaho can’t let himself get aroused; he needs to be focused at work. It takes him a whole ride to the outpost to calm down and stop thinking about the perfect way Slaine’s skin felt under his hands and how lucky they were to have some lube and condoms at home.

The day drags, and Inaho cannot wait for it to end. He ignores his colleagues’ nasty looks and thinks nothing of the chief officer’s smug smile. His brain is too full of Slaine, even though he does his work accurately. Of course they have yet to discuss if they are going to repeat the clumsy, yet wonderful experience, but Inaho is sure he can at least convince Slaine to share some fiery kisses.

Love is clouding his mind, he knows. But he can’t stop; there is no way he can stop these feelings. He doesn’t want them to stop. It’s his first time too, and it is strange how good it feels despite the actual imperfectness, despite their situation and their pasts. 

The first wake-up call he gets is when he comes home and finds the house empty, but he is too involved with his thoughts and simply brushes the worry off. Slaine must be walking around again; it’s still early, and, despite the cold, the sky is bright. After a short shower Inaho starts preparing dinner, and when the food is almost done he turns his laptop on to educate himself on the matters of sex.

The second time is when he pauses to let his eye rest and goes into his bedroom to change the bed sheets. He finds Slaine’s red jumper on the floor and can’t think of a reason why Slaine would leave it there. Yet, Inaho decides against checking the signal from Slaine’s bracelet; he wants to trust Slaine. He looks at the time, frowns and goes back to the kitchen where he again becomes engrossed in the articles.

The third call is wakening-up indeed. The sky begins to darken and Inaho is standing on the porch and staring at the dirt smeared over the steps. The outlines of several different footprints are unmistakable; Slaine’s and his own footprints can also be seen among the mess. Inaho cannot believe he had missed it when he came home.

Terrified, he checks the signal of the tracking device and goes numb. It is not working; it hasn’t been working since morning, right after he had left for work. The system also states that the bracelet wasn’t tampered with; the official deactivation code was used. Inaho fights the rising panic and controls his breathing. He has to follow the protocol; there is no choice now.

“Took you long enough,” the chief officer says smugly when Inaho calls him, and with a shiver Inaho remembers the pompous way the man had looked during the day. Slowly, he breathes out and wills himself to relax his grip on the phone. “You are to go back to the mainland and report to Admiral Hakkinen a week from now on.”

“Where is Troyard?” Inaho asks, already knowing he won’t receive any answers.

“Dunno,” the man laughs. “I follow my orders, you follow yours. Bad luck, huh, Kaizuka?”

Inaho spends a minute listening to the beeps. His head is empty. He feels sick, sicker than the moment he had woken up at hospital after taking Slaine’s shot to his head. Everything feels surreal. Just this night they were so close, doing unimaginable stuff, stuff that felt so good and right, and now it’s suddenly over, and Inaho isn’t even able to find out the reason why. He tries calling Hakkinen over the private line he had access to before Slaine’s case, but as he expects the line is silent; no one calls him back.

Inaho returns to the house and finds a small bag. He takes only the necessary things: his documents, his pills, money. After a moment of indecision he also packs some of Slaine’s clothes. He locks the house and refuels his car at the town. Even though it’s night and the road is slippery from the fresh snow, Inaho starts on his way back, back where everything had started. He knows he has plenty of time to get there - three days is enough - but he cannot wait; he has to do something, even if it’s only driving.

He gets to the city safely, but he has four more days to kill. He feels sleepy since he hasn’t really slept much during the drive. He finds a cheap hotel and uses the bed there. The sheets are sterile, clear of scents, and the sudden feeling of longing is so strong Inaho has to clench his teeth to stay in control. His only salvation is sleep, though his dreams are short and dark. In his dreams Inaho loses Slaine time after time, and after each nightmare he wakes up sweaty and so very tired.

He spends one full day in bed, but the next day lying makes him want to vomit. He forces himself to go out and walk around the lively city. He meets all kinds of people - young and old, happy and tired, busy and idle, bored and full of energy. He thinks he had never really paid attention to people before, he had never envied their simple and unhurried lives, he had never wished his and Slaine’s lives could be something ordinary and unburdened by the past and present. Slaine or being with Slaine had changed him.

He spends the third day in the room of his hotel watching the apartment building behind it. A short road separates both constructions and leaves no secrets to the eyes of the curious if the windows aren’t curtained. There is on old pair, a man and a woman, going about their day, and Inaho watches them, somehow fascinated by their plain routine. They wake up and dress, they help each other to stand and button their garments, they move to the kitchen and make breakfast together while looking over the fresh newspaper and discussing it. Their routine is full of touch and support, of awareness of each other, of wise smiles and endless patience, of a life shared with no regrets. Inaho imagines him and Slaine then, years from now, waking up in a bed like this, still together, still hand in hand, and he knows then - he doesn’t need anything else.

On the fourth day the anxiety is almost unbearable. Things fall from his hands, he has no appetite, he isn’t able to sleep. The only thing he really manages is ironing his crumpled uniform. He sits on the bed, clicks on the TV channels, does push-ups, takes shower several times and checks the time continuously. Before bed, however, his thoughts scatter and he feels as his cold composure returns. Whatever happens tomorrow, he has no right to fail.

In the morning Inaho receives a message from Hakkinen. It doesn’t say anything, just the address and the exact time. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long. He drives to one of the military facilities placed throughout the city and lets the guards at the gate check his documents. They speak to someone over the radio and, finally, Inaho is allowed inside. Hakkinen’s office is on the second floor; Inaho forces himself to knock before entering.

To be honest, he expects everything, almost everything, even the papers describing Slaine’s execution thrown at him, but he definitely doesn’t expect what he finds inside. Hakkinen is not in the office, he is nowhere to be seen yet, but instead of Hakkinen Inaho finds Slaine. The winter sun is shining brightly through the window, almost blinding Inaho. Slaine turns to him, a small smile at the corners of his lips, his back straightened, hands behind him at hip level - a perfect military pose of subordination. Not only the sun blinds Inaho; the blue UFE uniform covering Slaine’s body also does.

Inaho makes a step forward, almost in a daze, but Slaine shakes his head a little, indicating he shouldn’t approach, and mouths “I’m fine.” Something heavy lifts from Inaho’s chest; he allows himself to close his eye for a moment and breathe the air in. A second later Hakkinen comes inside the cabinet holding a large stack of papers.

“Ah, Kaizuka, you’re here,” he says throwing a disapproving glance over Inaho’s lack of formal salute. Inaho simply ignores it. He doesn’t feel like being an obedient soldier right now. “Do come closer to the desk. I will be brief.”

As it looks like Slaine isn’t going to be taken from the room, Inaho steps forward and stops near the wooden desk. Hakkinen is laying down the various documents on it, completely unperturbed by Slaine’s presence. It makes Inaho wonder if maybe he was wrong to expect bad things, if maybe there is still a hope and a future, both for him and Slaine. After all, Admiral Hakkinen never wanted Inaho out of the UFE.

“I am being promoted, Kaizuka, and soon will become the Fleet Admiral,” Hakkinen informs him and puts a pen over the waiting papers. “As such I will need smart people by my side. People who are able to carry out the orders by using their brains and not necessarily the protocol. Intelligent people, skillful people, people bound to the army for one reason or another, and in that light I’ve deemed you to be one of the perfect candidates.”

“What are you implying, Admiral?” Inaho guesses he can already see where the conversation is going.

“I am not implying anything, Kaizuka. I’m ordering you to come back, take back your post and soon agree to the promotion to Vice-Admiral. I’m sick of the sloth that has overturned UFE ever since the signing of the peace treaty with Vers. I want order, I want discipline, I want a safe future for Earth. And I want people who won’t betray the system half-way.”

“And Troyard is supposed to be the guarantee of my loyalty? To be my chains,” Inaho turns to look at Slaine, but Slaine’s eyes shine with the same calmness and tenderness. It makes Inaho think about the time he was drunk and Slaine said all those beautiful words to him.

Meanwhile, Hakkinen walks to his armchair and settles in it unhurriedly. “I have talked to Troyard and he doesn’t object. We have talked quite a lot, actually, over the past week, and he has given me an oath to stay by your side and to be your aide until his death. While I’m usually _very_ distrustful of former criminals, I am willing to give him a chance, both for your and his sakes. The only question left is ‘Are you agreeing with my terms or not?’” 

“You’ve given him the UFE uniform,” Inaho voices his observation in a silent inquiry. Slaine raises an eyebrow; it almost seems like he’s asking Inaho ‘Don’t I look good in it?’ Inaho thinks he looks dazzling, the pants and the white shirt cling to his body, and the blue coat brings out the wideness of his shoulders nicely. Still, Inaho has to concentrate on his conversation with Hakkinen.

“Troyard will receive a rank as well, and I’m expecting you to work him properly as well as to monitor him properly. Of course, he’ll have to use a bit of disguise and a false name, but I’m sure that will not pose a problem.”

“Nay, sir,” Troyard butts in, and Inaho suddenly senses Slaine’s desire to speed the process up, to leave this room and be with him again. It is the way Slaine purses his lips, perhaps, and the way he watches Inaho now, impatient and greedy.

Inaho ignores Slaine and takes his time reading the papers. It is a life-long contract and, honestly, it is not what Inaho wants. Becoming Vice-Admiral will mean the hell of work ahead, the absence of freedom until they both become old and wrinkled and maybe even longer, but it also means a lot of power, power to protect Slaine if anything goes wrong. It is still a life together with Slaine, more complicated, more dangerous, and so much trickier. Inaho doesn’t want to sign the papers but in the end he realizes he has no choice. Hakkinen won’t let him go, and Slaine has already agreed to this new strange turn of life.

Inaho puts his personal sign in all the right places, and Hakkinen nods, very pleased. “Good. Since as of now you are restored to your previous rank, I will leave the future of the hideaway house to you, Kaizuka. You may sell it or keep it and use for vacation time. You will also receive a new personal apartment in the city in two weeks but until then feel free to use the money that will be transferred to your bank account today. Your first orders will come after you’ve settled, and for now… use the free time wisely.” Hakkinen turns to Slaine and gives him a long look, “Troyard, I’m sure you know this already, but remember - _make any wrong move and he goes down as well._ ”

Slaine closes his eyes and bows his head, just a bit - a gesture on the verge of rudeness or politeness, one may choose for oneself. Inaho is afraid Hakkinen won’t like it, but the Admiral doesn’t care. Inaho can only guess what conversations took place between the two during the week. Slowly, Hakkinen collects the signed documents, then raises his head again and utters, “Dismissed, both.”

Although Inaho stands closer to the door he makes sure Slaine goes out first. When they are left alone in the hall Inaho snaps. He doesn’t understand why, but the emotions inside are impossible to hold back, anger and worry burning the most forceful of all. He grips Slaine’s wrist painfully and pushes him to the nearest wall, he hurts his knee as he does it because it bumps hard against the wall right between Slaine’s legs.

“Slaine Troyard would not choose this,” Inaho raises his voice. “You are out of your mind. What did he threat you with?”

“Breathe.” Slaine’s hands come up to gently cup his face. “Calm down. I’m here, safe, with you. This is not the place to talk. Let’s get outside.”

Slaine’s forehead touches Inaho’s, and Inaho breaks the eye contact. He can hear the approaching footsteps from behind the corner of the hall, and he compels himself to step away from Slaine. Slaine is right. It’s better to take this somewhere else. Perhaps, they can talk in the car. Inaho lets Slaine go first and watches as Slaine pulls the sunglasses out of his inner coat pocket. He looks ridiculous in them, but Inaho understands the disguise is needed, however poor right now it is. 

They leave the building, pass the gates and climb inside the car. Inaho cannot drive though, not until he knows the answer.

“Why?”

“It is the only way to stay with you, and we both know it,” Slaine answers, looking out of the side window. He takes off his sunglasses, then shakes his head and grips Inaho’s arm tightly. “Don’t be mistaken, Inaho. He had given me the option to end my life as well. But I decided to be selfish. Was it… wrong of me to do it?”

There is sadness and a sudden uncertainty flashing in Slaine’s eyes, and Inaho curses the hurricane of emotions still agitating him.

“No, no,” he whispers frantically, leans down and places his hurting head over Slaine’s lap. “Never.”

It takes infinite time to master his emotions again; Slaine’s shy touches of his hair are slowly helping. When Inaho feels he can drive safely, he starts the car. The ride is silent; Slaine’s utter serenity irritates him. The awkwardness grows, heavy and unavoidable, and Inaho doesn’t know what to say.

***

Slaine is the one who saves them from the uneasiness, Inaho realizes, as he and Slaine slide into the tub, full of bubbles and hot water. The aroma of mint and green tea is strong inside the spacious bathroom. Inaho doesn’t regret renting a pricey room; soon his salary will again be enough to cover many-many things. He settles against the white rim, enjoying the tender and soothing way the water encloses him. What he enjoys more is Slaine’s body in his embrace, Slaine’s hair tickling his jaw as Slaine lies down on his chest and rests his legs over Inaho’s. Inaho pulls him close, so close he can smell Slaine’s hair. It’s the only thing that really calms him down - Slaine in his arms.

“When they dragged me out of the cottage while I was dressing, I knew it was over. I was prepared to die,” Slaine confesses as he moves his hand under water down Inaho’s thigh. “It felt funny, Inaho, because my only regret at that moment was that I wouldn’t see you again.”

Inaho strengthens his embrace and leaves a kiss on Slaine’s wet cheek. There is a mirror wall in front of the tub, and Inaho can see how Slaine’s lips form a soft smile. The water moves sluggishly, caressing and relaxing them both. Inaho remembers their old encounter in the bathroom when Slaine was almost ready to kill him, and what happens now is so different from back then that Inaho’s chest hurts. Yet, it’s a pleasant kind of pain. Now he is allowed to study with his fingertips Slaine’s scars, now he is not uncomfortable of taking off his eye-patch, now he is so warm and peaceful with Slaine by his side. The irritation and anger dissolve, replaced by what Inaho can only describe as quietude.

“She did break me, Inaho.” There is no need to specify who Slaine is talking about so Inaho listens and doesn’t interrupt. “On that day she came to the cottage. For a time I felt empty, but with that emptiness came the calmness. It felt strange. It felt as if there was no more room for breaking. The only words in my head were ‘that’s it.’ Sounds odd, doesn’t it? I’ve spent years, living and fighting for her; I was ready to die for her. She defined me. And all it took to let go of all those feelings was a simple ‘that’s it.’”

“I once heard Yuki talking over phone. It seemed like she was reassuring someone. She said ‘There is a line beyond which you can’t be broken. That line differs for everybody, but if you stay strong you will surely face it one day, and afterwards no one will be able to hurt you.’” Inaho isn’t strong in talks concerning the feelings, but for a moment he thinks he can understand what Slaine is saying, and he is glad.

“Is that so?” Slaine whispers, then closes his eyes, finds Inaho’s hand and entwines their fingers. “Don’t hurt me, Inaho.”

“I promise.” The words sound more like an oath or a declaration of love, and Inaho kisses Slaine’s hair again and again, just because he can.

The storm is over, he thinks. The situation is not perfect, but it’s the only path they can have. They are saved.

***

“Can’t you wait until we’re home?” Slaine grumbles as Inaho pushes him against the wall and pulls the shirt down his shoulders to place kisses all over Slaine’s neck. The blue coat lies on the floor already, discarded, crumpled and stepped over. Inaho knows Slaine keeps a spare one in the car so he doesn’t feel guilty. The sudden arousal hits Inaho hard; usually he is able to hold it back until a more convenient moment, but obviously not today. He is hot and horny; he has to taste and feel and have Slaine if he doesn’t want to embarrass himself during the undergoing ball.

He remembers, for a second, that somewhere close right now Empress Asseylum roams the ballroom as the star guest. It’s been two years since Slaine had become Inaho’s personal secretary, but Slaine has yet to see Asseylum since that awful time at the cottage. The thought of their possible meeting, even though it’s highly unlikely that Asseylum recognizes Slaine, somehow makes Inaho feel desperate. He doesn’t want them to meet.

“No, not this time,” he breathes out; his hands unbuckle Slaine’s belt. The room they are in is huge but it’s crammed with desks and other furniture that must have been moved here from the ballroom for the duration of the event. The moonlight is caressing them both as Inaho carefully leads Slaine to the nearest L-shaped desk and distracts him with kisses. Slaine is no fool though; he laughs quietly over Inaho’s diffidence and his body nestles up encouragingly to Inaho’s arms. Slaine allows Inaho to lay him on the desk, on his stomach, and arches his back seductively, his hands moving slowly to the edge of the desk to grip it.

Inaho leaves feverish kisses along the lines of Slaine’s scars as his clothed hips find a slow rhythm rubbing against Slaine’s backside. He waits no more. These days he always keeps condoms in his pocket or in the car, because sex with Slaine is one of the most magnificent things in the world. They do it often if they aren’t tired from work, and it’s always perfect. They trust each other so much that sharing each other’s bodies is a given. Inaho slides Slaine’s pants lower and undoes his own. Slaine, so beautiful under the moonlight, watches him over his shoulder and shivers when Inaho guides his cock between his buttocks.

They do quickies sometimes, especially when they are alone in Inaho’s office and need a break from the long day of tedious paperwork. But they usually don’t do it like this, recklessly, under the fear of being caught. It’s also a bit hard to get inside Slaine without the additional preparation but Inaho is patient. Slaine moves to meet him and lets out a soft gasp when Inaho is fully inside. They stay locked for a minute or two, just enjoying the unity, and Inaho leans down to kiss Slaine’s shoulders above the wrinkled shirt while his hands keep hold of Slaine’s hips.

Afterwards it’s a speedy campaign. Inaho moves his hips relishing the way his cock goes up to the hilt every time. Slaine is tight and accepting, succumbing to Inaho’s need, and Inaho cannot thank him enough. He needs the lovemaking, perhaps, to reassure himself, and Slaine senses it, as he always does. Sometimes Inaho thinks he is the one who is truly blessed in their relationship. Slaine is selfless, selfless up to the point it makes Inaho furious sometimes, but whenever he brings the topic up Slaine just laughs and reminds him about the years spent in the cottage.

“Let go,” Slaine commands him and Inaho lets go of himself. He grips one of Slaine’s hands on the edge of the desk, joining their fingers, and picks the pace up, feeling as his own shirt sticks up to his back from the sweat. He presses Slaine into the desk, thrust after thrust, relentlessly. The blinding pleasure is close, so close, and he hurries after it, desiring to catch it and lose himself in Slaine and the warmth they share.

When he comes Slaine watches him again, gripping his hand as hard as Inaho holds his own. Inaho feels like he sails through the ocean of pure life, and the touch grounds him more than anything ever could. He rides out the pleasure, gasping and trembling, until the weakness captures him and forces to search support upon Slaine’s lean body. For a long time the silence in the room is disturbed only by their hard breathing.

“You _are_ worried about something,” Slaine mutters finally and settles himself on the desk to take a proper breath.

“Should I take care of you?” Inaho asks instead of answering and slides his palms up Slaine’s thighs, then steps even closer and leaves a trail of kisses against Slaine’s jawline.

“Mmm, no, I really don’t like doing it here. Wait until home, then I’ll thoroughly use you.” Slaine smiles, his gaze falls onto Inaho’s softening cock. It’s always sensitive after sex so Inaho has to wait until it goes limp and he’ll be able to tuck it back into his underwear and pants. For now, he only deals with the condom, glad to find a trash bin near the exit of the room.

Slaine tries to rearrange back their clothes so they can look again presentably but fails, and they both have to return to the car. Inaho puts on Slaine’s spare shirt, and Slaine hides his own crumpled garment under the new blue uniform coat. Slaine slicks his hair back as he always does it now before taking part in any social events, then puts on the fake glasses. He also wears the contact lenses that make his eyes look brown. The disguise is simple but it had worked perfectly over the last years. Inaho is actually astonished how easily it is to fool most of UFE and Vers.

The ball is well underway when Inaho enters the main ballroom, Slaine a step behind him as his lower rank dictates. They surge through the crowd, greet politely familiar faces and nod to the Fleet Admiral Hakkinen who salutes them back with a glass of champagne. Inaho tries to walk the way they can avoid Asseylum and Klancain but in the end deems it futile because Asseylum, apparently, desires to speak with him. Thankfully, at least Klancain chooses the moment to engross himself in conversation with some politicians from Earth. Asseylum approaches Inaho alone but she has yet to cross the ballroom.

There is little time to escape and it will only make Asseylum search for him once again. Inaho still remembers the crushing way Slaine sat under the rain after her visit to the cottage, and he wishes to have no contact with her. Not only because it will angry him, but because he fears that Slaine is going to be hurt again too. He turns to Slaine, locks gazes with him and says, hurriedly, “The Empress is approaching us.”

“So?” Slaine leans his head a bit to the side and looks over Inaho’s shoulder, then back at him.

“I do not wish to see her. Can I kiss you right now?” Inaho asks and frowns at the way Slaine narrows his eyes first, then suppresses a laugh.

“Is this what you were worried about? Really, Inaho…” Slaine shakes his head, and Inaho’s world suddenly becomes so full of Slaine that for a moment he feels dizzy. Slaine’s warm body is leaning into him, Slaine’s strong arms come to rest on his back, Slaine’s golden hair brush his cheeks, Slaine’s soft lips are almost covering his. Slaine whispers gently, soothingly, holding Inaho like he is the most precious person in the world, “Do it. Kiss me.”

The kiss is long, though not deep, just a simple union of lips. Inaho puts all of his love in it; his right hand comes to enjoy the dip of Slaine’s waist, the other one stays on his hip. Slaine’s hands stroke Inaho’s back, then find their home on his shoulders. Slaine’s face is hot where their skin touches - it must be because half of the ballroom is able to see them; Inaho can already hear the gasps and snickers. 

“She saw,” Slaine says quietly after their lips part, but their bodies still share the closeness. “She’s not coming here. She’s shaken. I think she recognized me.”

“Are you okay with that?” Inaho wonders, searching Slaine’s eyes. What he finds there again is absolute tenderness. Slaine steps back, smiling, ignoring the whispers around them; somewhere behind Hakkinen is coughing loudly over his glass of champagne. 

“I wouldn’t kiss you otherwise, would I? Never mind that I’m going to be labeled as ‘Vice-Admiral’s toy’ now.” Slaine walks to the nearest table with food and holds up a glass of red wine. Inaho follows him, feeing light-hearted and relieved. “In love you named me, Inaho.”

“You’ve been reading too much poems lately.” Inaho cannot hide his own little smile as he too takes a glass and sips the wine. “Also, if anyone calls you a ‘toy’ I’ll make sure their lives become hell.”

“Make sure that you do.” Slaine’s smile is flirtatious now. He puts his glass away and props himself against the edge of the table. “Ah, I really want to go home now. You owe me a night of mind-blowing sex.”

Inaho throws a glance at the crowd. All around them people are chatting and dancing; pretty dresses oppose the strict red and blue colors of the UFE and Vers uniforms. Bright lights bathe the ballroom, highlighting the cheerful faces and smiling eyes of the guests. Harmonious music echoes from the finely decorated walls. The celebration of peace is joyful; life always goes on.

“Yes,” Inaho agrees, a feeling of contentment in his chest so great he closes his eye for a moment. When he looks at the world once more, all he can see is Slaine. And it will always be him, Inaho thinks. “Let’s go home soon. Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been too long between the chapters, and I was writing the first two when I felt very-very tired hence why now the third one has a different feel (in my eyes at least). But I think it suits, in a way. Again, thank you, everyone who commented on this fic or will yet comment on it. Be sure I cherished and will cherish every word. Also, a special thank you to paperballoon for catching some mistakes!


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